Madelyn's Choice
by Houyoku
Summary: In the noble lifestyle behind Caelin's walls, Madelyn is everything a noble lady should be. But... the idea of marriage plagues her negatively. She never thinks she'll ever fall in love. She is wrong.
1. Noble Lady of Caelin

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Madelyn's Choice

By Becki ^___^

© Fire Emblem

All characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

Myahahaaa XP More Fire Emblem fics! Ehehe.. I'll finish my Zelda One-shot soon, I promise ^^; It's just that I get.. sidetracked a lot ^__^;; It's not my fault I had sudden inspiration to write this! Really, truly, honestly! (*cough* Shim... .__o) So.. yes. That's that. This won't be a one-shot (*halleluiah chorus starts in background*) but it won't be very long either.. (*music skips*) 

Also, this is one of my very rare romance fics. I think this is the second one I'm writing ever. So.. if I suck, don't kill me, okay? I'm not so good at this x.X

All right, all right, I'll stop wasting your time (you _can_ just skip this part and go straight to the fiction ya know..) Let's go ^__^

~Becki

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Chapter One: _Noble Lady of Caelin_

Stretching out, Madelyn leaned against the long chair, reading the book in a horizontal position. Her deep chestnut hair fell down from the red cushions lingering close to the marble floors below. Her legs folded up against the part of the chair where her back was supposed to be, shoe-less feet against the smooth edge. After her teal eyes skipped through the pages and lines, she sighed and sat up, her head causing a sudden dizziness. Sighing, she spoke to herself.

"Sitting so inappropriately." She scolded herself softly. Her attire was simple and loose, not the long dresses for outing affairs but a creme colored blouse tied with a sash. Setting her book aside, she rested her head on her hand, elbow resting on the table beside her. Noble life was more difficult than it seemed to most. It was not truly the politics that would tire her, but something else..

The exulted daughter of Lord Hausen, the Marquess of Caelin. Madelyn was any ideal noblewoman, beautiful and well mannered. She intelligent and witty like her tutors had always said, but she suffered tremendously from a sickness.

This sickness was called boredom.

There was a soft knock upon the door. Madelyn looked up and called softly, voice gentle.

"Come in."

The door opened to reveal the young steward of Caelin. He was dressed in green like most under the services of Caelin were expected to. Bowing his head, he kept his eyes downcast for respect.

"It is time for dinner, lady. Lord Hausen expects to dine with milady this eve." 

"Very good. Thank you Reissmann, tell my father I shall arrive shortly." 

"Should I send in the dressing maids?"

"Hm.." She looked up briefly and turned away again. "Oh, no that's quite all right. Thank you." As the door shut with a gentle click, Madelyn came forward and locked it with the long key that was tied with a simple cord around her neck.

Deciding to dress quickly, she pulled a sea-green overcoat cut at the shoulders over her blouse. Clasping a brooch elegantly at the neck, the coat was tied under the gold sash and fell to her knees with a gold embroider. Last, she tied her long hair back out of her face and let it fall to her back.

When she unlocked the door and stepped outside into the halls, servants had already been waiting to escort her to the dining hall.

This was how it was every day. Every day first started with the morning lessons of politics, dancing and etiquette, followed by brunch and afternoon studies. But as the heir to the throne of Caelin, they could afford no mistakes in raising the ideal leader. And then there was the idea of marriage...

At the thought Madelyn frowned.

Such an ugly word. The word that was a tool to bring a male leader to the picture. A word which was hoped to add to the wealth and power that the nobles already had. Madelyn had not yet eighteen years, and already suitors across Elibe had shown themselves.

When the familiar halls faded into the grand room and long tables, the scent of food already began to seep into the air. But there was nobody there. As it was expected to be. Madelyn had made it a custom that when the family was to dine together, it was out on the balcony with the garden beyond. As a child she had always loved to play amongst the flowers and the trees. There, her mother, the late Lady Lyndis, would teach her of the world and tell her stories.

As she stepped out outside into the walled garden, the table had already been set. Her father waited on the opposite side of the empty chair, his head down and hands writing on a parchment. Madelyn sat down quietly and waited for him to finish. As he folded it and let the wax with Caelin's seal dry, he looked up at his daughter.

"Ah, Madelyn, I have been desiring a word with you." He smiled fondly at her, and she returned it with a smile of her own, bowing her head slightly. He had sandy brown hair which had already started to gray, flecked with white in the growing years.

"My apologies, father. The late studies make the hours seem so short." She replied with a gentle tone.

"And I've been told you have been following your studies obediently and even surpass most noblewomen your age."

"I.. I am honored to have those that think so highly of me." Humble Madelyn said. She expected Lord Hausen to say something more, but the servants had already come in with the steaming plates. As their dinner was served on the elegant table, Madelyn's eyes strayed across the garden. From the patches of flowers to the crystal creek, then lingeringly at the tall willows with lamenting arms. 

The dishes were uncovered, and Madelyn looked back at the table. Watercress soup and seasoned fowl decorated with almonds waited as the servants retreated back into the castle. Lord Hausen handed the letter to one of the soldiers which were there to guard them as they ate. The soldier took the letter and left also. Madelyn noticed the anxiety instantly as the letter was being passed.

"Father.." She asked, on edge.

"Hm..?" 

"That letter.. who is it to?"

"Oh, yes, it relates to what I wished to speak to you of. But first we should eat. I have been out in the courtroom all day and could use a bite."

"...." Madelyn frowned slightly, her face falling. But she complied. "Yes, father."

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As soon as she entered her room, she kindly dismissed the servants. Then, she slammed the door as she was sure they turned the corner. After turning the key on her lock, she sighed and held her forehead. Her father.. was he so blind to her reluctance? She knew he only wished the best life for her.. yet.. She recalled his words..

_"Marquess Araphen has requested your hand, Madelyn. It seems he has admired you for so long, and now that he was recently titled the Marquess, he has impressive power and is a decent young man."_

And her reaction.

__

"M-marquess Araphen, father? But I have only met him once on occasion. I don't believe I am ready.."

"Don't be ridiculous, child!" He laughed lightly. "I believed that would be your reply, so I had already written a letter to him."

"Ah.... f-father, please allow me to talk to him myself.."

"You'll get the opportunity soon enough. I am arranging a banquet here at the castle. Many of the other lords will be invited. Perhaps you may meet him there."

"..When is this event, pray tell?"

"Tomorrow." _He replied, quite pleased at the statement._

Covering her face with a hand, her hair spilled over her face freely. Breathing delicately, she closed her eyes. So little time. Quickly approaching her desk, she opened the mahogany cabinet and withdrew fresh parchments and black ink. She had to figure out what to tell the Marquess of Araphen. Even as a witty lady with quick words, she was lost and did not know what she would say. Dabbing the feather pen into the bottle of ink, she began to brainstorm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She found herself the next morning asleep at her desk. The blank sheet of paper before her was pale in the fading moonlight which fell through the window. It was early, a few hours before dawn. Tired and lost in blank thoughts, she dressed unconsciously and tied her hair up. As she was pinning the loose strands up, there was that knock on the door and the voice.

"Your morning lessons have been canceled, milady." The gentle maid spoke through the door. 

_W-what..?_ Madelyn thought.

"What is it I should do this morning?" She pursed her lips.

"The Lord says you are free to do as you will." Madelyn's mind grew skeptical, but she answered hastily.

"Thank you, you may leave." Distant footsteps followed her dismissal, and she sank into a chair. The servants must have already started the preparations for the party. Snapping up in surprise, she came approached her tall wooden wardrobe and cast the doors aside. Her dresses hung neatly from the racks, free from the moths and other creatures. There was more to worry about than what to wear for the party, she decided, and shut the door. She would deal with it later.

Then an idea came to her. Opening her wardrobe again for the last time, she fingered through the fabric and her hands made their way through each robe, each dress. Then they came to the simple dark purple tunic. Pulling it out, she was happy to see that it was all intact, and looked to fit her perfectly. It was a hunting tunic to practice falconry in, given to her on her sixteenth birthday by a distant relative. However, her father was unpleased with the gift, but careful not to be rude made sure it was never used in a subtle manner.

Hunting through the closet, she pulled out a navy cloak with a high hood. It was embroidered with violet decorations, the intricate knot-designs sewed neatly on the hem. It was perfect. The clothing was not so rich that she could be distinguished as a noble, and it gave her the guise of a wanderer. 

A smile crept onto her face. Perhaps...

She turned, holding the tunic and the cloak as she came to the wide doors leading to her balcony. Pushing the glass doors open, she looked over the side and confirmed that she could indeed climb down with a safe landing, as her room was on the first story. 

And a plan quickly wove itself on the loom of her mind. Quickly re-dressing into her carefully chosen disguise, she undid her hair and let it fall loosely with graceful curls down her face. Tying the cloak at her neck with a knot, she examined herself in the mirror. A lithe figure of a young maiden stared back at her. The clothing was slightly faded and was scented of old perfume. Raising the hood of her cloak, she let the lip fall over her brow. Surely nobody could recognize her.

After she made sure her door was locked, she came out on her balcony and closed the glass doors behind her. She was not used to walking for long distances or jumping for that matter, but she did have keen balance and high grace. Swinging both legs over the banister, she pushed her hands against it and fell to the ground which was a few feet above. And she landed on both feet, knees bent and hands down to distribute the landing evenly.

And she stood up. She would return soon.. but perhaps there was something she could do that would bend the situation to her will. 

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Comments? Questions? Just plainly hate it and want to flame? Be my guest ^__^ Please review!

...Yeah, I don't mind flamers, I take it as welcome compliments and/or criticism. But you don't have to cuss at me, okay? I may be a bad writer, but my self-esteem level is too low for you to do anything about it. (except review? ^__~) 


	2. Warrior of Sacae

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Madelyn's Choice

By Becki ^___^

© Fire Emblem

All characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

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Chapter Two: _Warrior of Sacae_

With an elbow on the saddle of his horse, Hassar let out a breath and stared into the sky. Caelin was nothing compared to the lands of Sacae. Too noisy, too crowded. People massed all around the market, and there were unusual scents in the air. His dark emerald hair of the Sacae plainspeople was tied back with a black bandana. A ring dangled on his ear in the moaning wind as his black eyes looked over the busy town.

A simple traveler he was. Nothing more. A friend had told him of all the wondrous things the lands of Lycia had compared to Sacae. But... how wrong he was.

Hassar remembered his eagerness to start a journey. After he vowed to return to his tribe and take his father's place as chieftain, he had prayed in the temple of the Mani Katti. His prayer was simple. For guidance in his leadership skills and choosing the right path.

As a man of the Lorca tribe, he yet remembered his duties. He was the only child of his family, for his older sister had passed away with an unexpected illness. Once he felt lost in the world, and this feeling returned. 

Finally deciding to ride back into town, he mounted his tawny horse, a strong mare with a pallid brown gaze. As he rode through the crowds, he saw the soldiers of Caelin joking and making merry. There seemed to be an occasion of some kind, the crowd was in good spirits.

And as he looked up, Hassar could see Castle Caelin upon the hill. It was, he admitted, a more impressive sight than the gers of the tribes were. Built of strong stone and surrounded by white walls. Hassar never had a fondness towards the nobility. As he was growing up, the dwellers of Sacae told stories of the ambitious Lycian nobles. Their prejudice against the nomads distrust toward them. Did not Hanon join Roland in the battle that had won them power?

Turning his head away, he pulled on the reins and directed the horse down towards the field west of the town. There were a few solitary trees planted in their own preference of the ground. A few houses remained ahead, but Hassar felt more at home in this field. Taking the mare off of the path that led to the castle, his free hand played with the feathers of the quiver by his side. Dismounting as they met the tree, he let go of the reins, trusting the mare's loyalty.

He was not so far from town, but he was far enough to avoid the distractions. He sat down at the tree's roots, let out a deep breath, than stared at the clear sky once more. As his eyes followed the hills slopes and gentle terrain, he guided his gaze across the land.

There was a clothed figure which descended from the Castle of Caelin. A figure cloaked in navy, face hidden. In the warmth of the sun, it was hard to imagine this person being comfortable in such heavy clothing.

Narrowing his eyes, Hassar watched the figure. Perhaps.. he or she was a shaman? Clothed in the dark apparel to train in the dark arts? As he watched, the person's figure soon proved to be one belonging to a female's frame. As his curiosity intensified, he saw the dark cloaked stranger stumble closer to the town.

In case of danger or whatever may happen, Hassar looked to his mare. The horse was feeding delicately at the grass, tail whipping the air pointlessly. Quickly he whistled and stood up. The mare lifted her head, and trotted to him obediently. Swinging a leg over the saddle, he pulled gently on the reins and goaded her back towards the town.

With a sharp gaze, he made sure to follow the female figure with his eyes. In case she would not be so friendly, he made sure his reach was not far from his bow or sword.

Through the streets his target of curiosity was swallowed by the crowds, but his eyes followed behind closely. 

Realizing it was only harder to move through the crowds with his mare, Hassar backed off to one side and dismounted. With a quick motion of his hands, he ordered the horse to stay at that spot. With a snort the mare shook her head, but reluctantly agreed.

As a tall-built individual, Hassar could see over most of the heads in the crowd. Minding his way through he saw the dark cloaked person approach a stall where a man was selling fruit. Hassar stopped and leaned close the a building, watching curiously.

The cloaked woman did not lower her hood, but she seemed to be talking to the salesman. The man listened than simply shrugged. After he had done so, his attention was caught by a passing customer. Politely the mysterious woman backed away and started to walk among the crowds towards Hassar.

A few feet away from him at this moment, she stopped a passing woman and asked her. As subtle as possible, the Lorca plainsman could barely pick up the words.

"Do you know when Marquess Araphen is to arrive here in Caelin?" Her voice was strong. An arduous voice with a firm foundation. She had a light accent and precise diction. It was a voice accustomed to giving orders.

"I know not, miss." The old lady replied, and seemed to be anxious to get on her way. The cloaked lady neatly.

"Oh.. thank you anyway." The woman nodded in return and scurried away with a hurry. As the cloaked lady gathered the cloth of her cloak at her neck, she started to walk passed Hassar when he addressed her quietly.

"Are you an assassin hoping for an attempt on the Marquess' life?" He asked in a collected manner. Startled, the woman looked up and saw him leaning against the wall. As she looked at him, he could see most of her face. Milk-white skin and a delicate expression. She was younger than he had expected her to be.

And she smiled wryly. 

"And if I were.." She said, not completely answering his question. "would it matter to a Sacaen hunter as yourself?" He was clearly surprised at her quick response and the fact she could pick him out as a plainsperson so easily.

"I've seen many travelers in my days.. But I can see you are different."

"Oh?" She looked around a bit uneasy. "I am afraid I don't understand what you are speaking of."

"My proof has come from your lips." He said simply. "The way you act and speak." And she seemed offended by this statement.

"There is nothing wrong with the way I speak, sir."

"Aye, but it sets you apart from any other townsperson here." 

"......" 

"And you conceal your face. Is there something you hide?" Unexpectedly after he spoke these words, she slowly raised her slender arms. As her fingers came to the lip of her hood, she gripped the sides wistfully. Then after the hesitant pause, she let the hood fall away from her face.

And she was even more lovely in the light.

Auburn hair fell and twisted along her chin and rose over elegant eyebrows. Her eyes were bright in the sun, her pale face not used to the warm glare. And as her hood fell over her shoulders, she dropped her hands. 

There was an awkward silence which followed. 

Hassar could not let himself forget the fact that he had spotted her coming down from the castle. Perhaps he could be wrong and picking a conversation with the wrong person. She could have simply been a messenger, it would explain her high-class voice and etiquette. Crossing his arms, he asked her a simple question.

"What is your name?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ma-" She caught herself as she said it. What was she thinking, giving her name to a complete stranger? Revealing her face was bad enough, and now..

But as she looked at him once again, she saw that he was waiting patiently for an answer. This man, a man from the fields of Sacae.. he seemed friendly but highly observant. Why was her heart so heavy? 

"Madelyn." 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._ She thought to herself, the unladylike words ringing through her head as she finished giving her name. And red warmth flushed her face and neck as she looked down. But if this man now did know she was the Marquess' daughter, he did a fine job of not letting it escape on his expression.

"I am Hassar of the Lorca Tribe." He introduced himself yet with an expressionless face, he bowed his head. 

_..N-now what?_ She thought miserably. Her main goal was to somehow turn the Marquess of Araphen away from Caelin, and now she had given her identity to a man she had met minutes before.

"And where do you come from, Dame Madelyn?" Madelyn looked up in surprise. So.. he didn't know after all. Slowly, she tried to think of a good answer.

"I do not--"

She heard a familiar voice in the blended chorus of the crowds. She turned quickly to see a young man dressed in silver armor wandering the streets with a band of other nights.

_Wallace!_ She groaned as she recognized him instantly. And she knew he would recognize her quickly as well. Without another word, she flung up her hood. Nodding briskly to Hassar, she returned to the sea of people.

She did not her him call her, which was for the better. Managing her way through the crowds, she did not look back until she reached the edge of town. 

Then she realized there was nothing more she could do until the banquet commenced. She would have to speak to her suitors herself. 

And she fled home, unable to stay any longer with her thoughts. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A pointless yet important chapter ^^; Sorry it's so short, I didn't feel like lengthening it -__-


	3. The Banquet

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Madelyn's Choice

By Becki ^___^

© Fire Emblem

All characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

Disclaimer: I do not own anybody except... except... hm! What do you know? I don't own anybody yet ^_^; Well.. maybe Hassar's sister, but she doesn't exactly exist in the fic -__o 

****

Chapter Three: _The Banquet_

It did not take long for her to sneak back into the castle. As soon as the fiasco would have come to an end, Madelyn had almost considered a request to tighten the security. However, she thought better of it and decided that she would like to sneak out every once in a while. The outside world was vastly different from the secluded area of the castle.

Instead of returning to her room however, she decided to come back through the garden. The titter of birds and the creek's playful wash over the clean stones greeted her ears. She took off her hood and let the warmth of the sun bathe her cheek.

Hassar.. had that been his name? What an unusual character. Observant and quick with his words. Madelyn had always been led to believe that the Sacaen nomads were primitive and slow. But he was different, a determined spark in his dark eyes. 

Shaking her head, she forced her thoughts with controlled defenses. No, there were more things to worry about. Besides, she would probably never see him again anyway. 

The willow's arms fell and fell playfully in her loose hair. With a girlish laugh, Madelyn rebuked the tree and untangled the leaves. Narrowly missing the creek with her foot, her boots slid against the wet mud. 

"My lady!" Regaining her composure, Madelyn straightened to see the steward upon the balcony with a sweaty hand on his forehead with concern. Forgetting that she was not to be seen until she had changed out of her guise, she replied naturally.

"Yes, Reissmann? Whatever is the matter?" Raising a hand to block the sunlight from her eyes, she saw the young man sigh in relief.

"We couldn't find you, milady. The maids were beginning to fret. By and by, you're safe."  
"Yes.. I was in.. the garden.." She said as smoothly as possible to cover her escape. "I'm perfectly well." Reissmann sighed again, and bowed his head after remembering his respect.

"The guests for the banquet have arrived."  
"What?" Madelyn said with a start. She turned and looked at the sky, seeing the bright blue heavens. "Already? I was told the banquet was to begin an hour before sunset."

"But alas, they are willing to wait. I believe Lord Hausen is touring them through the mansion, madam." Madelyn made her way up the balcony steps as gracefully and ladylike as her surprise would permit.

"Excuse me." She said hastily and disappeared inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Madelyn." He spoke the name again, as if speaking it again would remove it from his thoughts. He knew there was definitely something about her that was different from the other women from Caelin. First of all, she never averted her gaze from him like they did. Strong, bright green eyes. She did not shun them like the Lycians. If she was born out of nobility, she was definitely not what was stereotypically described of them. 

And she was interested in the coming of Marquess Araphen. Another strange concept. 

"Your thoughts are like a storm, my child. Chaotic and careless." 

Hassar did not flinch, but turned to see the owner of the voice. The scratched voice at the edge of cackling laughter. A older middle aged woman with graying straw colored hair. She whore a lined hood over her eyes, and wrinkles already creased her skin. She grinned a toothy smile, a silver tooth revealed on the beige colored row.

Out of taught respect for the elderly, Hassar chose a respected title to address her.

"A storm with violent endings, grandmother?" Her grin furthered and she massaged her long-nailed hands.

"Perhaps. Even the smallest storm can unexpectedly tear hearts." Her voice was shallow and wind-like. Hassar stared distantly, unable to answer. The lady sat down and touched the pestle. She seemed to be mixing herbs of some kind, mastered in the art of potions.

"I am but a humble fortune-teller." She said after a few moments, mouth thin. "Do you seek your future?" 

"...I do." He replied honestly, one hand on the reins of his mare. 

"I shall read an augury, if that is your desire. But there is a small cost."

"I apologize, grandmother, but I have no gold."

"Then.." She pointed to his ear. "That shall do." Reaching up to his earlobe, the gold ring dangled. Both earrings he had were given to him by his late sister. As he was thinking about it, the fortune-teller waved a hand carelessly back and forth. "One of them may be the cost." 

Surprised, he thought it through. One earring was barely worth one gold. But they both meant more to him than any other possessions he owned. But.. there was something that his sister had once said.

_"Possessions are merely materialistic compared to the memories you have through them. What I give you, my prayers are only that they may help you in your journey through life."_

He closed his eyes, and heard her voice. Taking one of the earrings off, he held it in his palm for a few seconds.

"Done." Raising his hand palm down, he held it out. The woman removed one bony hand from the pestle and uncurled her fingers. Dropping the gold ring from his hand, Hassar watched it fall into her hand.

"Very well." She dropped her hands from the pestle altogether, closing her blank eyes. Through her thin lips, a soft hissing sound came out. 

"... ..." She said nothing as she touched her eyes in a plea to see into the future. Hassar waited patiently, ignoring the mare which looked about anxiously and apprehensive. The horse's ears flickered and she tapped her hooves impatiently.

"There is a great feast tonight in the house of the rich.. there is someone who longs to meet you. This person who effects the road you take. But.. what's this..? There is.. a conflict... something that may turn out for the worse. Heed the warning, do not take this path.. not only your life may be effected, but a great loved one.. There is more... death... and... darkness... blades.. axes and blood.. darkness!"

Unable to understand her broken words, Hassar waited as the wind shuddered. The woman twitched as she breathed ragged breaths, then was still. Unsure of what had happened, he saw the beads of sweat had broken on her forehead. He called her softly.

"Grandmother?" She whispered in a voice that was an order. 

"Do.. not.. take this... path.." Those were her final words as she collapsed on the mat she had sat on. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Standing at the two large doors leading to the grand ballroom, Madelyn shifted her gaze from one guest to the next. She was dressed elegantly in a fancy yet simple dress. A dress which was in the pastel green and silver to match her eyes. Her hair was done high, pinned with pearls, not too many to take away the shine in her locks. Madelyn held two creme colored gloves in her hands, she felt her palms already getting humid with sweat.

Marquess Araphen had not yet arrived. Which was somewhat of a relief, but also unfortunate. She did not want to have to wait for her embarrassment. And her father who would put her into this situation! She was alone and had nobody to confide in.

Lord Hausen called her name, again snapping her from her thoughts. Turning her head, a loose strand of hair brushed her shoulder.

Her father stood with a young couple. Patiently she lifted her dress and came by quickly and obediently. Lord Hausen spoke inaudible words to the couple, then addressed Madelyn.

"Madelyn, this is the Marquess of Pherae, Lord Elbert and Lady Eleanora." The lady of Caelin looked from one guest to the other. The man with fiery red hair who was identified as Marquess Pherae nodded kindly and smiled gently. His face was just as kind as his reactions, his eyes as blue as the sky in high noon. His wife was beautiful, rounded pale face surrounded by a frame of curly amethyst hued hair. She closed her fan and followed her husband's suit, the first to act. 

"It is a great pleasure and privilege to meet the famed Lady Madelyn." Her voice was almost like glass, crystal clear yet fragile. Lord Elbert had a hand over his wife's shoulder and greeted Madelyn as well.

"Yes, well met, Lady Madelyn. Your father speaks most fondly of you." Elbert's voice was slightly laid back, soft and tender. Madelyn bowed her head, momentarily forgetting about Marquess Araphen.

"It is an honor, Lord Elbert and Lady Eleanora. I would like to congratulate you on the birth of your first son." She said politely, remembering everything from court.

"How kind of you!" Eleanora said, her smile not in the least fading. "Yes, little Eliwood is most likely asleep in Pherae. A spitting image of his father!" Madelyn raised her eyebrows.

_What a lovely couple.._ She thought, surprised at their playful attitudes.

"Lady Madelyn!" Reissmann's voice interrupted the conversation as the ruffled steward entered noisily. Quickly bowing his head low before the lords, he apologized. "Forgive me, my lords."

"Reissmann, what is it?" Madelyn said with a frown.

"Marquess Araphen has arrived. He request your presence."

"Ah!" She darted a look toward Marquess Pherae and his wife, then to her father. He simply smiled and nodded. "Excuse me please." She said quickly. Lord Elbert dipped a clean nod.

"Of course." 

Madelyn hurried down the ballroom floor, Reissman at her heels.

"Where is he, Reissmann?" She said breathily. He pointed down the halls. 

"At the entry gate outside."

"Thank you, please await here and greet the remaining guests." She said bluntly, unable to hear anything but her heart race with anxiousness. After that she did not hear him anymore.

A sea of words swept into her mind. How could she say that she didn't want to marry him without being impolite? Or.. did she even have to be polite? Surely shouldn't be rude, it wasn't in her nature. The hem of her dress swept against the walls as she turned each corner. As she went, her eyes caught the windows and the setting sun over the silhouette of buildings in Caelin town. It was almost night. She did not know how long the feast was to last, but she prayed that it would not be long.

When she turned the last corner of halls, she saw the huge doors of the main entry. One of them were open, the orange glazy sunlight washing the marble floor. She stepped out gingerly and looked around. There was nobody there except for the guards awaiting at the door. Turning around, she wanted to make sure he was not there.

Nobody. She almost paused to ask one of the guards whether they had seen him. Instead, she wanted to procrastinate and stepped back inside. Perhaps.. he had wandered his way towards the ballroom without her noticing it.

"Lady Madelyn!" Spinning around at the call of her name, she knew it had just been a delay in her schedule. Marquess Araphen withdrew from the shadows of the halls and approached her, stepping into the window of sunlight.

"My lord!" She said, struggling to keep her composure. "What a blessing it is to see you this fine evening." Without a word, he took her hands in his own.

"A blessing, surely it is." He raised the back of her hand to his lips, and Madelyn kept still, only in discomfort. Perhaps it had been a good plan to keep her gloves on, unfortunately she had not executed it. When he raised his lips, he spoke gently. "Who were you looking for?"

"I.. I was just seeking a breath of clear air. The ballroom does get a bit clouded as it fills." She lied, keeping her eyes away from his face. It was not true to say that he was unattractive. In fact, it was the complete opposite. Combed blond hair and sharp brown eyes. He had a good build, but what bothered her most about men was their attraction. His personality was too quick, too desperate.

As politely and subtly as possible, she withdrew her hands.

"Would you like me to escort you to the ballroom?" He asked, raising an arm. Madelyn kept a straight face but her mind was flaring.

_I can get there myself, after all, I do live here.._ Forcing any negative thoughts back, she tried to relax.

"It would be an honor, my lord." Taking it, she followed his movements, more than anything abhorring a conversation. But to her disappointment, one came anyway.

"I have wanted to speak to you of something for quite a while, Madelyn." Trying to be innocent and unknowing, Madelyn curled a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

"Oh?" 

"I have.. discussed something with Lord Hausen.. but I am not sure of his approval."

"...." She frowned slightly, pursing her lips. This was more difficult than she had imagined. "Approval of what, milord?"

"There is someone that has caught my attention, Madelyn. As a friend I ask for you help." He paused, and continued. "This someone, I have grown most affectionate to."

_He's trying to be subtle.._ Madelyn told herself unhappily. _It's failing miserably. He doesn't know that Father told me of his letter.. Oh, dear Elimine, let me get through this.._

"What aid do you seek?" She finally said, afraid of the answer.

"Your acceptance, Lady Madelyn." Now was the time to play the role of an actress.

"Of what?" She said in mock astonishment.

"I wish.. no, I yearn for your acceptance." He said, voice low. To get rid of the repetition of this statement, she said simply.

"But I do accept you, my lord." He stopped suddenly, and turned to look at her.

"Excuse me?"

"I do accept you." She repeated.

"You.. then.. That's splendid!" Marquess Araphen said suddenly. "I must speak to Lord Hausen immediatly."

"What..?" But in his bliss, he quickly made way towards the ballroom by himself.

_What is he so happy about..?_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taking a deep breath, she sat next to the creek warily. Unsure of what had just happened, she looked into the star-scattered sky. 

What did he mean..? Perhaps there was something else that he wished to speak to her of, perhaps she had misunderstood him the whole time. Marquess Araphen may have been somewhat naive, but he was not stupid..

_Never mind._ Madelyn forced herself to shut her thoughts. She just wanted to forget about him for this night. Trying to avoid him, she had made her way into the garden. The garden she knew and loved as a child, the quiet place where she would sit and think deep thoughts which hovered over the clouds of her mind. The night was quiet, and beautiful. The natural lights which lit up the sky were so much brighter than the lights from the lamps inside the ballroom.

She was wide awake, and ready for whatever was to come.

Out of nowhere a hand came and clamped over her mouth, pulling her back behind the willow tree with a sudden force. Surprised, she threw out her hand in an attempt to allure the culprit. It hit only air, and she was left groping in the darkness of the tree's shadow. Where were the guards?! An arm steadied her.

"Relax.."

That voice....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	4. Knight of Caelin

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Madelyn's Choice

By Becki ^___^

© Fire Emblem

All characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

Disclaimer: I do not own anybody except... except... hm! What do you know? I don't own anybody yet ^_^; Well.. maybe Hassar's sister, but she doesn't exactly exist in the fic -__o 

Muahaha, you get to see what color Wallace's hair is before he went bald XP 

Okay, this will be the first time I actually write thank-you's to all the very nice people who read my poorly-written fics! Thank you!

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gentleness28: Arigatou gozaimasu! Thank you so much for reviewing almost all of my fics! You're a very talented writer yourself, I look forward to reading your works ^_^

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hyliansage: Thank you as well for all the support you've given me since the beginning! As you were the first person to review _Dark Flame_, I'd like to thank you for your continuous, uplifting comments ^_^

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Angel Nina: I am most definitely a bit better about my own confidence whenever you contradict my self-bashing statements ^_^ Thanks!

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Itzel: Jaja, soy feliz que tú estás leyendo mi historias, ¡eres una persona muy simpática! ¡No puedo esperar conocerte más! (lo siento si hablo algo que no tiene razon ^^; ) 

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Kiyoko-chan: O_o; I didn't think I could be anybody's rolemodel.. but I am very flattered that you'd think so, it does so much for my self-esteem ^__^ Thank you! *gives pocky*

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Waffle Girl: I try to edit my works once or twice, but I still miss those little typos that appear here and there.. evil typo demons ^^; Thank you for your reviews, I really hope this can live up to any expectations ^_^

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Alice Kaiba: I can't write humor fics, it's just not in my ability ^^; But I'm glad the seriousness in the stories is tolerable ^^

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Dissonant Rhapsody: I hope I can get better at writing ^_^; It's amazing how quickly one improves in a matter of weeks! Arigatou! 

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Chapter Four: _Knight of Caelin_

So.. it was her. That mysterious woman who had the air of royalty and nature of a child. His hand remained closed over her mouth, but she stopped flailing as he spoke. Carefully whispering so nobody could hear, he leaned down close to her ear.

"I was told.. that I would meet someone that is to decide my future." She did not move, but he knew she was listening. Madelyn, she must have been family to the Lord of Caelin. After a few moments with the branches of the willow tickling the wind and moaning as it did so, Hassar released his hand. His face was emotionless.

"We meet again, Madelyn of Caelin." He said casually. She nodded slowly and speechlessly, dressed in the splendor of nobility. 

"And you, Hassar of Sacae? What drove you to think that I was such a person?" She said with an obscure frown, biting her lip. It was strange that it didn't bother her that he knew she was noble. Why should she be ashamed anyway? Just like the Sacaens were proud of their ancestry, why shouldn't a Lycian noble be? 

He was about to respond when a voice came from within.

"Lady Madelyn?" An unknown voice to Hassar, one that had a long drawl came from the castle. Madelyn seemed uncomfortable and wanted to leave. Hassar's firm gripped stopped her.

"You don't seem content. I can see that you're hurting." He asked firmly with a frown. She lowered her gaze. "What is it you want?" He turned his head as he asked. She stopped still, thinking it over before answering.

"Freedom." Her answer shocked him. 

"What?"

"You live on the plains. Where freedom is at your grasp. I have never been taught to ride or allowed out of the castle walls. I am a noble's daughter who lives in the choking rooms and prepares for the wedding that has been made for her before she was even born. If I could leave Caelin now, I would. But, I am weak and afraid of what my peers would do or think."

"That was not an answer I had be expecting." Hassar said with an honest yet grim expression. "But are you willing to learn to walk towards your wish?"

"I.. am. My trails have not ended yet."

"Then, I will teach you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"In the tribe of the Lorca, a man is only fit to be independent after he learns the way of the sword or bow." Hassar knew she meant freedom from the political life, but, there was something she must learn.

"Surely not a woman?"

"Women are no different."

"Do you believe that?" She asked cautiously, unsure whether this is what she wanted. 

"...Once I didn't. And because of it, I have lost one in my kin." That one earring dangled mischievously to remind him. Madelyn avoided eye contact with him. But she answered clearly.

"Then teach me. Teach me how to fight."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lady Madelyn!" The noble daughter waved her hands in a downward motion, silencing the loud caller. The man was silenced instantly, his brow obscure. The sun was bright in the summer sky, and she dressed for the weather with a gentle cream colored blouse and yellow tunic lined with gold. 

"Sir Wallace! I beg that you keep your voice down!" She said in a half-whisper. The knight decorated in silver armor lowered his lance, the black-gray hair matting his head. 

"Lady Madelyn, what are you doing out here, sneaking around like this?" With a gloved hand on his thick weapon he leaned upon it with his large frame.

"I.. am to meet someone. Ah.."

"Yes, Lady?"

"Did.. where there any new recruits that had joined the Caelin ranks recently?" She asked, trying to be as subtle as possible.

"Well.." Wallace frowned in an attempt to bring up his memory. "As a matter of fact, yes. A Sacaen horseman. He offered his services this morning, but said he may not stay long." 

"Really?"

"...Forgive me for asking, but is there any particular reason why you ask?" 

"Oh! No, not at all, I was just curious." She said, dismissing it with a simple wave of the hand. "Thank you Wallace, I shall retreat to the palace." Wallace bowed respectfully and Madelyn turned.

Wallace must have felt a bit of suspicion. There was not a single way she could have prevented it. She hardly ever neared the Knight's quarters, and it was her luck that Wallace had been on duty outside. 

He was hardly a friend, but knew her well.. almost better than anybody else. She remembered those days she pitied him, when he was alone and the nervous squire of an experienced Caelin knight. When the trainees would poke fun at his once small figure, calling him names a man would not usually ever have to bear.

But those days were over. Madelyn grew up to be a fitting heir to the throne, Wallace to a full-bred knight among Caelin's bravest. 

Sneaking along the edge of the trees, she ducked below the branches. Deciding that she would circle around the Knight's quarters, she tried to navigate herself to the abandoned training grounds. The place where she promised to meet _him_. 

Not a single memory of the feast earlier had came back into her mind since she made her wish to learn how to fight quite clear. All morning she was anxious for her first lesson-or whatever they called it in Sacae- she had asked her tutors to excuse her from class that morning.

They had been appalled, never once had she ever missed class.

Finally making it out of the hedge, she saw the huge walls around a small area of land. A smile came upon her. It never changed, the branches of cracks on the sun bleached walls, or the sea of ivy snaking up the sides. This was the place she played at as a girl, the old training grounds for the knights. The vision of herself fourteen years ago, being greeted by the friendly servants and visiting the stables. After the new one had been built and secured, this place was hardly ever tread upon anymore.

She approached the rotting doors, and gingerly pushed them open. They creaked, a joyous sound that had not touched her ears in so long. Sunlight spilled over her shoulders and fell upon the dirt ground. She guided her eyes around the grounds, catching the glimpses of shards on broken swords and snapped arrows.

She was early. Not unexpected, she couldn't wait too much longer.

Stepping inside after the moment of stillness and silence, she saw that a pool leaked through the corners where the yellow-brick walls met, swirling with dust and silt. Grass sprang up near the edges of the walls, lush yet sharp.

"Lady Madelyn." She turned abruptly to see him tipping the doors aside with his hands, leading in a gorgeous amber colored mare that she had never seen before. The horse blinked with deep eyes and seemed to raise her brows. Hassar had his grasp lightly on the reins, the other hand occupied with a quiver of arrows.

Madelyn, caught in fascination stared at the mare, watching as the tall ears twitched under the thick brown mane. Touching the horse's chin, her own eyes lit up.

"What a beautiful horse.. Is she Sacaen?" Hassar's face did not change, but he dropped the bridle and took a sword which was strapped to the saddle.

"A mare of the plains, yes. Bred to be faster than other steeds." Unlatching the straps he held up a sheathed sword to her. She dropped her touch from the horse and took it, a bit surprised. Gently she lifted the hilt from the scabbard and saw the thin steel.

"This sword.. it seems.. different.." She stared at her distorted reflection on the bright surface, turning the blade to see the flat sides.

"How so?" 

"It's.. thin. Not like the rapiers or wider swords that I have seen." Hassar turned and looked at the sword in her hands.

"It was Sacaen crafted. The thin sides are for quick trusts and easy maneuverability." He took his own sword, one that looked identical to the one she had, but it was longer and the hilt was shorter. Completely withdrawing the blade from the scabbard, he touched the flat surface and spoke as he did so.

"Which is your sword hand?" 

"My sword hand?" 

"The hand you are most accustomed to using."

"Oh! My left." She slid the sword out, her left hand tight against the hilt. It was a light sword. True to Hassar's word, it would be easy to maneuver. Hassar had the point of his sword at the ground, fingering the blade.

"First lesson. Are you ready?"  
"Only whenever you are."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Have you ever taught anybody before?" Madelyn held her sword up, hands alien to its feel. Hassar was polishing the sides of his sword as she practiced getting used to the blade's touch.

"No." She stopped, lowered her arm and turned her head towards him.

"Who was your teacher?"

"My father. Because of his great skill, they say he makes the strongest chieftain." Madelyn sheathed his sort with quick precision.

"You're the chieftain's son?"

"...yes." He kept his head down, the damp cloth fighting against the vivid scratches.

"Do.. you have an older brother to take your father's place?"

"No."

"Then.. what are you doing here, in Caelin? Shouldn't you.."

"I felt it best to travel the lands of all the Generals, I wanted to open my eyes to others, learn their ways." Hassar wiped the blade one last time before sheathing it as well. "I have time."

"Oh.." Madelyn lowered her eyes. "So.. you'll be leaving shortly." 

"Yes." 

Madelyn unsheathed her sword.

"Then teach me all you can before the knowledge I can learn be lost."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night was drawing quickly. Wallace feeling a bit more aggressive than usual decided that he would stand guard all night as well. Perhaps normally he wouldn't have done it, but there were still rumors surrounding him and his questionable ability to bear the burden of being a night. 

The knights were coming in from their training, the seniors from their travels and day out with the Marquess. Wallace still found it a bit strange that Madelyn had stopped by. Without escorts, no less. She was a clever girl, he knew, she could elude many people.

As he was attempting to amuse himself by thinking, he saw a mounted figure approaching.

"Good Eve, who goes there?" He said in a pleasant yet strong tone, raising his torch. 

"Hassar of Sacae, I applied as a mercenary of Caelin this morn." The light flickered upon his hard face, that one earring catching the light fondly.

"Of course.. Out training all day?" Wallace asked in a friendly manner. "It's an impressive first impression."

"I have my own ways." The Sacaen replied as the mare flicked her head. "I will not be staying terribly long, I may as well leave with no regrets."

"That is positive thinking my friend." Wallace said heartily and bowed gently. "My name is Wallace. I would be honored to fight alongside with you."

"Let's just hope there's nothing serious to fight for." Hassar said with a gentle grin. "Are you to stay out all night? You were here all of today as well."

"Ah, but yes. I may as well wait for my armor to cool down. It was rather too bright a day to be on sentry." Wallace spun his lance around in his giant palm for the millionth time.

"Agreed. But you need not stay alone. Two guards are better than one, are they not?" Hassar swerved the mare aside and dismounted, keeping his sword at his side.

"They are." Wallace said with a deep chuckle. "Let's see if both of us warriors can tackle the spell of sleep!"

"Because that is the worst spell to be cast upon." 

"Aye!" 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	5. Bonding Friendship

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Madelyn's Choice

By Becki 

© Fire Emblem

Characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

Thank you to all who reviewed burningpheonix (I'm so sorry that I forgot to add you in the list of the last chapter! begs forgiveness), gentleness28, hyliansage, Alice Kaiba, Nevian, Kiyoko-chan and R Amythest! (Haha, Hassar seems like Rath? Well, I suppose that's what happens when you write a Rath fanfic and try to write about another Sacaen)

Ack! I thought Lyn was sixteen when you first met her, but when I rechecked it, it said 18 . And then I calculated that Eliwood was seventeen from the Hector and Eliwood SC -- Argh. Oh well --; Thanks for clearing that up, R Amythest ;

Becki

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Chapter Four: _Bonding Friendship_

Madelyn woke up that morning with a light heart. The sunlight streaked through the decorative windows above her bed. She lay with her hair sprawled like a fan on the pillow, hands palm up by her neck. She felt tired. The training she forced herself to go through was catching up, as she was not yet used to such vigorous, physical action. A month had passed since her first lesson.

Her eyes followed the same path as she looked about her room. When her eyes fell upon the sword leaning against her vanity, she closed her eyes and tried to remember. 

Sitting up, she looked around again. There was a serene silence in her room, a quiet peace that allowed her thoughts to process. She had completely forgotten about Marquess Araphen through the wekks, for her thoughts were scattered like the winds. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she set her bare feet on the silk rug. Pulling a cloak over her nightgown, she opened the door to her outer room.

The distorted colors which flooded through the stained glass windows mixed and swirled with the veins in the marble of the floor. Her shadow followed obediently as she pulled aside the satin curtains. Pure gold poured through the glass, warm upon her face. Satisfied with the warmth, she took off the cloak and dropped it to the ground.

Unlatching the gold clasp, she pushed the glass doors to the balcony. Humid air rushed in, taking her by slight surprise. Stepping out towards the banister, she listened intently to the bird's song. Two birds which sung upon the light bough of the towering trees. Both sang a song of grace and happiness. 

The day was sweetly warm. The drops of dew caught the sunlight on the ground, sparkling with a rainbow's defiance. Madelyn touched the hard spots on the skin of her fingers and palm, the roughened places resulting in handling a sword. 

Retreating back into her room, she decided to leave the doors open. She traveled to her wardrobe, opening the doors with ease. Digging through the dresses, looked to the back of the wardrobe to retrieve her daily study attire.

She managed to fit the fencing lessons into her schedule.. or rather, she missed an hour of sleep in order to fit it in. After her daily lessons she would have dinner and quickly dress to report at the abandoned training grounds. 

But her mind would often stray from the books and the tutor as her excitement and anxiety was kept at bay. Groping in the wardrobe, she made sure her disguise for leaving the castle was still there. 

And she could be seen smiling as she made her way to the library. 

The knights were a rough bunch. But to his surprise, he found that not all the knights were male, and there were women who trained as well. Hassar fit in quite easily with the knights despite his Sacaen heritage. Wallace was a good friend, they often spoke and joked with one another. Hassar could figure out within the first week that Wallace was not very popular among the ranks.

"Ignore them, Hassar." The knight had muttered to the nomad as he saw the others laughing. Hassar had frowned.

"Why do they laugh? Is their mirth because of me?" He asked him.

"No, it's no matter. Now.." 

Hassar remembered that Wallace had completely changed the subject after then. Some sniggered at him, but he most often ignored them or gave them death glares.

This morning Hassar got up early and went to tend to his horse. He saw Wallace at the stables early, and they greeted each other normally. 

"Good day." The knight said pleasantly. The nomad nodded and filled the trench up with water. Wallace watched this and remarked. "It is the job of the stable hands to tend to your horse, Hassar."

"I know that." The Sacaen said simply. "I'd rather do my own work rather than it having done for me." Wallace took a lance down from the racks and laughed doubtfully.

"You're a hard worker." He said with admiration. "But don't work yourself to the point that you collapse."

"I've been more laid back here than I have ever been in my life."

"Oh? Is life on the plains require that much more work?" His friend replied as he tied a metal gauntlet on his wrist. Hassar's face was grim.

"Yes. On the plains, we say that laziness is next to cowardice." 

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Wallace said with a frown. Hassar stopped, and looked straight at the knight with a serious face.

"I'm not sure." He said finally, and turned back to his work.

"Are you sure that you didn't make that up just now?" Wallace joked. Hassar raised an eyebrow and turned back again, but Wallace was not finished. "It sounded somewhat poetic. 'Laziness is next to cowardice.' I like the sound of it as well. You should write a book, Hassar."

The nomad snorted.

"And what do you know of poems? I don't suppose you've written any recently."

"Oh, you'd be surprised." It was impossible to tell whether he was joking again or not.

"Then here's an idea, we could write a book together." It was Hassar's turn to joke. "Let's see.. 'The Volume written by the two fools who have nothing better to do.' How's that for a title?" 

"It's a bit long."

"True."

"Or, 'The Manual of Knightly Prowess.'" Wallace suggested. Hassar considered it.

"Right. Lesson One: Laziness is next to cowardice. Satisfied?"

"Quite." Wallace grinned. "Hassar, you and I are going to be some rich writers."

"Oh, for some reason Wallace, I highly doubt that."

"..." Wallace took his lance in between his hands. "...Well enough of this. We're to meet Commander Narien at the south gate. He has some drills prepared for us. I'm going to leave now, so don't be late. You know how the Commander hates waiting."

"Sure thing." Hassar replied as he went to take his saddle from the side of the stalls. He could hear the clanking of Wallace's armor as he left. 

The mare nickered and turned her eyes to her rider. Hassar sighed gently and tossed the saddle gently over the horse's back.

"Today we work with endurance." The commander said out loud. He was a middle-aged man with dying blond hair. He was an experienced paladin, a sword on the sheath by his saddle and a lance which balanced precariously on his hand. Narien looked at the mixed array of soldiers.

"If war ever hits, it is more than essential to have it. You must have the endurance to walk or ride all day and still be able to fight when battle arrives." Hassar didn't find it as much of a problem. He was, after all, a nomad of the plains. He was used to moving place to place, and his horse was only used to constant movement as well. But he noticed that many of the training knights around him were uncomfortable at the thought.

"Silence!" The Commander ordered. The murmuring halted. He reared back on his reddish-colored horse. "Remember, you are not in charge of your own pace. All ranks must travel as a group. We will circle the domain at a constant pace. Starting.. now!" The commander kicked the side of his horse with the stirrup and the horse went at a gentle gallop ahead. 

Without hesitation, the group lumbered on.

"Lady Madelyn!" 

Snapping her eyes which had meaninglessly scanned the book up, she looked at the frustrated teacher before her. The tutor his book open on his palm, his spectacles lowered so he could see her clearly.

"Lady Madelyn, I don't understand how you are learning anything when you're head is in the clouds." 

"Roland of the Eight Generals was of Lycia and a fond friend of Athos of Nabata. Elimine lived in present day Etruria as Durban lived in the North-western Isles. Bramimmond studied in Valor in his early years as Barigan hailed from northern Ilia. Hartmut founded Bern and Hanon..." She paused at this moment after reciting her entire history lesson. "Hanon came from the Sacae plains." The tutor looked at her skeptically and turned back to his books, apparently satisfied that she had proven her knowledge.

Madelyn shut off the drone of her teacher's voice from her ears as she stared subtly out of the window. This was a miniature private library that she sat in, the room that was high in the tower which could see Caelin and its roofs. She could see the knights below training, the sunlight which reflected off the armor. She tried to seek either Hassar or Wallace within the cloud of people, only to find it a fruitless effort to do so.

She closed the book on the table and tried to listen to the rest of her lesson. 

An exhausted group sat against the walls, legs sore and head spinning with movement. The Knights were complaining about the weight of their armor or weapons, or the pain in their legs as the metal leg guards rammed into their shins. The mounted units were beginning to get stiff on the saddles and the horse's wanted just as much rest.

Wallace, however was more annoyed with the complaining as he was with his exhaustion. Hassar remained on his horse, preparing for the next set of drills.

"Listen to the lot of you." He noted out loud. "After a few miles you all beg for a water break."

"Shut up." A sour archer replied. "You were no better. Clanking in your armor breathing like a dog."

"Since a few years you haven't changed. You may be bigger but your strength can still be comparable to a girl's." A cavalier agreed. "You don't think many remember, but who was it exactly that had always clung to the leg of his knight as a squire?" 

Hassar felt his anger bubble beneath the emotionless mask on his face. How could they call Wallace of all people a girl..? Wallace sensed the tension and looked at his friend.

"It's nothing Hassar." He said bitterly, as if used to the verbal abuse. "I'll just have to prove these whelps wrong." He dropped his lance and stepped out of the shade.

"What are you.." Hassar started, but Wallace cut him off.

"I'll run a lap around the domain." There were rueful snorts.

"Will you be back before dawn?" An unknown voice said sarcastically from the crowd. Wallace frowned.

"Scratch that, I'll run three laps around the domain." He said to Hassar. The Sacaen suddenly dismounted, and stepped up by his friend.

"Very well, will you allow me to join you?" Wallace looked surprised at him, but then gave a laugh that cause everybody there to tremble.

"Ha! Of course. Full speed?" He taunted. Hassar smirked.

"I'd have it no other way." 

Madelyn returned to her room and locked the door. Quickly changing to her swordplay guise, she swiftly grabbed the sword by her vanity and went back to the balcony. She had mastered the art of jumping off of her balcony. Swinging her legs over the side, she jumped to the ground below. Keeping in the shade of the trees to be unseen by the guards, she made her way to the designated area.

The sun was setting when she arrived at the abandoned training grounds. She was a little late this day, her numbers tutor had kept her late. She pushed aside the gates and entered.

Hassar was not yet there. Figuring that he must have been kept behind as well, she started to train first.

Unsheathing her sword, the metal emitted a high pitched sound as it slid away from the scabbard. Throwing the sheathe to the side, she began to weave patterns with the sword. Right, left, up down. One hand on the hilt, than two. Turning every so often, she gave half-thrusts and quick slices in the air. She was learning rapidly. Swordplay was an art to her now. 

She heard voices outside, and lowered her blade. She could pick out the sentences.

"We showed them, Hassar." It was Wallace's voice.

"No doubt that we have to add this to our 'Manual of Knightly Prowess'?" Hassar's voice. Then Wallace laughed. 

"Commander Nerian would agree that it would be essential to a Knight's training." There was a pause. "Hassar, where are you going?"

"You need some sleep Wallace. Running those three laps, in full speed no less, in full armor must have taken its toll. I'll return before midnight."

"...sure." Wallace replied, but did not ask any further. "I'll retreat back to the quarters then. But I'm not tired."

"Of course not." Hassar said sardonically. "Good night."

"Good night!" And she could hear him no longer.

Hassar appeared through the gates, but his horse was not with him. He held his sword and looked up at her.

Madelyn smiled weakly.

"Did you have a long day?" Hassar let out a breath and unsheathed his sword.

"You have no idea." 


	6. Ill Message

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Madelyn's Choice

By Becki

© Fire Emblem

Characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

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Chapter Six: _Ill Message_

"Lord Hassar! Thank Father Sky I've found you!" Hassar and Wallace simultaneously turned to see a young man running down the hill to meet them. The man was easily identified as Sacaen, his dark olive hair over his eyes and the thin sword tied at his waist.

The two warriors were outside of Caelin castle, in a small valley were a small river cut across into the woods. The friends had decided to enjoy their break from training outside, but their quiet, joking conversation was interrupted by this call. Hassar instantly recognized the man, and he didn't like the fact that he looked so flustered.

"Kasha!" Hassar said, approaching the myrmidon. "What has happened? You were sent to find me?" He let the messenger catch his breath, and Wallace with his clanking armor approached the two Sacaens.

"I left... a week ago.. the Lorca are in dire need of you, sir." Hassar tensed.

"Now?"

"Yes."

"_Why?_" His tone was hard, and his face was no softer. When Hassar realized how severe his tone was, he mentally kicked himself. He had no intention of becoming fond of the outside world. True, the people of Caelin were no kinder to him now since the day he arrived. Then, why was he hesitant to return to Sacae, where he belonged?

_Madelyn._

"This letter.. it is written by your mother.." Kasha quickly fumbled with loose parchment and handed a folded letter to Hassar. Wallace looked on towards the two, but dared not interrupt.

Hassar's eyes followed the recognizable writing, and the worst was confirmed. Covering his head with a hand and closing his eyes, he listened to his deep breaths, trying to keep calm.

"When.. when did this happen..?" His voice was shakier than intended.

Kasha lowered his head and his hands were at the hilt of his sword with a gesture of respect.

"Not long after I left. Your mother was concerned and wanted you back home immediately."

Hassar turned away from the messenger, nearly dropping the letter. There was a moment of silence that had some awkwardness in it, and he started to walk away from the two others.

"When will you return?" Kasha's voice asked. Hassar didn't turn, but answered loudly.

"When I am able. Return to the Lorca, Kasha. Tell my mother I will come." Without further bidding, the man turned and raced up the hills. Wallace's face was hard to translate, but he followed after his friend.

"Hassar, what is the meaning of this? Why do you look so grave? Look at me when I speak to you!" Wallace and his blunt demeanor crossed the Sacaen's thoughts, and he stopped after exhaling deeply. But he dared not turn.

So Wallace did it for him.

Putting a metal plated arm on his friend's shoulder just next to the shoulder guard, Wallace pulled gently. Hassar finally turned, his face full with a frown and eyes dark. Wallace sighed, and shook his head, taking back his rough question and gestures.

"Then.. if you are so reluctant to tell me what happened.. when _do _you plan to leave?"

"I.. don't know."

Madelyn realized that the castle was in higher spirits. The servants treated her so differently, with more respect and in seemingly congratulating intentions. She had not seen her father in days, and suspected that he was most likely outside of Caelin's walls, perhaps dealing with other Lycia lords or off inspecting.. something. But she felt uneasy with all this attention. It was as if everybody expected Lord Hausen to suddenly fall and die and quickly raise Madelyn as the heir to the throne. But even if this suspicion was not correct, she felt a fear to be afraid of what _was_ going on.

In the shade of her own room, she had ordered everyone-her ladies-in-waiting and the servants- outside and only allowed the guards outside her door. She was trying to read the book which sat on her thigh, her knees drawn at a loose angle. The wind sneaked through the window, a cool breath on her clammy skin. Momentarily raising her head, she let the wind calm her nerves and encourage her. It was like a comforting embrace.

She looked out the window, and it was hard to see where the sun's position was at, the sky was completely gray with undetectable clouds hovering over the lands. It was a cold, bleak day. One of those days that was best dealt with a cup of tea and a book. But her cup had been long empty and was ice cold by the table. Her book was bland and uninteresting to read.

It was a bit early for reporting to her lesson with Hassar, but she wanted to speak to him anyway. That glance that seemed protective and wise. His strong grip on her hands, guiding her sword and teaching its ways. She had learned much from him, and felt in debt, in a way.

Madelyn put the book aside, and leaned back against the wall, her high-done ponytail like webs falling in a sheen of brown. Laughing with a clear girlish tone, she closed her eyes and wondered what more could happen. A great noble lady as she, learning to fight and combat in the style taught on the plains.

Rising, she flipped the strands of hair that fell over her shoulders with a flick of the wrist. Quickly dressing, she prepared to make one of her habitual outings.

Hassar was alone, outside, under a grove of trees. He leaned against one of the tall trees, the branches held high like a trophy. His shadow was dim against the ground, and the texture of the air was crisp yet foggy. Well, it seemed like it at least.

He held the letter in his hand. It must have been the hundredth time reading it, but each time his eyes fell over the next word, his disappointment clouded as thick as the sky on this day. He knew this day would come, but it seemed so soon.

Too soon.

It seemed unreal, untrue and deceiving. Was it not just yesterday, he was a child on the plains under the guidance of his sister, as they played and hid in the shelter of the tall grasses? In his mind, the scene played over and over again. Two children marveling at the wonders and being called in for the meal. Was it not just yesterday?

Or long years ago? His mind could not decide.

Time was like a flood, vivid at the time, but fading as the weather changed.

"Lord Hassar?"

The voice was gentle, a soft voice which succeeded in arousing him from his former thoughts. It was that voice that he knew so well, although his ears had not yet dwelled in yet a year of its words.

Madelyn stood under a tall sycamore, her head veiled in a dark hood. She looked no different from the day he had met her, at the crowded day in the bazaar. Her face and figure blended in the crowd, but he could see all the difference.

He was quiet, but folded the letter and removed it from sight. But those teal eyes noticed, they saw all.

"Does something plague you?" She frowned but did not approach him. One hand was raised, fingers curled delicately. But he did not answer this question.

"You're here." He said, looking distantly at the castle in the background. He hardly ever saw her unless it was during one of their lessons. It was unusual that she had risked to see him at this time. Perhaps.. she had heard to news? It seemed highly unlikely.

"Hm." She breathed, and looked tenderly at the trees. "This was my favorite place as a child. But.." She touched the trunk of the tree, fingering the folds on the rough bark. "These trees were planted by knowing hands. I had never seen the true blessings of Mother Earth, where the trees grew naturally by her touch. Everything I have was made to be enjoyed by humans."

"...." Hassar turned to her, feeling the weight of that earring as he did so. Her expression was in a pensive state, draped arms low.

After the dragging moments of silence, Hassar looked away.

"Later.. There is something of importance that I must tell you." Madelyn turned and stared with a crinkled frown at his back.

"Why.. not tell me now?" She clearly knew that something serious must have happened.

"I do not think I am able to." Hassar said truthfully, looking at the serene landscape far from his eyes. The birds soaring far in the blank sky caught his eyes, freely falling and rising on the drifts. His hand was instinctively at the sword by his side, and each second seemed to speed right passed.

"I.. I must return now." Madelyn turned back, looking a bit disappointed. "I might be missed." Hassar had a feeling that she was just trying to get away. But she added earnestly. "You will be at the Training grounds at the usual time, yes?"

"Yes. I will be there." But he did not turn to look at her. She moved with such stealth and silence that after a few minutes when he did turn, he saw that she was gone.

It felt normal in her hands. As if she had always been destined with a sword at her palm, her sensitive fingers which had begun to build an immunity against the rough hilt. Her nails were scratched, underarms sore and bruised. But she was improving. Her reflexes were quick and her grace was definitive. But she sorely lacked physical strength. She hoped that these long hours of training fixed that.

Hassar watched her as she practiced the fients and parries into the air, swiping at the clouds of swarming gnats. He was impressed by her quick-learning and witty tongue. This was their sixth consecutive week that they had lessons. Perhaps it was time..

He took two blunt practice swords, the metal sanded off so that they wouldn't hurt even the softest skin of the most fragile baby. Madelyn turned to see him coming, and paused in a mid-turn. Sheathing her sword, she took one of the blunt swords from him.

He looked serious as he raised his own.

"You are ready for combat. Don't forget your lessons even as the time of battle slips by." She nodded, and stood in a loose but quick stance. The opponents stepped back from each other. Madelyn with her fair figure and wind-tossed hair. Hassar and his tall stature and hard face.

"Begin." He said, signaling their start.

Madelyn began her first move, and started to move across at a slow pace towards him. Hassar made sure to keep his distance from her, and they began to circle.

Madelyn's eyes were straight at Hassar, and their eyes locked for a moment.

This was when Hassar lunged.

His sword just barely reflected off of hers, but it had slid almost a foot beyond her sword's defenses, and she jumped back in surprise with an unwanted cry. Hassar frowned and drew back momentarily, and let her recover her stance.

"Don't look at me." He ordered. "Keep your eyes on the sword." And she obeyed instantly, realizing the error in what she did.

Hassar leaned down and threw a jab at and around her knees. A common move to fall an enemy. But he did not put all his force into it, this fight was meant to be easier because it was her first experience in combat.

She saw the gleam of the sword and stepped aside of her opponent's sword, prepared to return a blow of her own. Metal clashed as Hassar had drawn up his blade to combat hers. Not wasting a single minute, she made for a lunge at his side, only to meet another vibration on her hilt where Hassar was ready to meet her.

She needed an attack that was unexpected. It was obvious that he was not putting his entire strength behind every parry. But it was fortunate for her that it was so.

Ducking low, the Sacaen made a horizontal swing at her. With her own vertical stance, she forced her sword down to make a cross shape with his blade. The swords seemed to lock into each other. Knowing that her strength could never win against his, she swung her weight to one side and released her blade from the tension.

This was a move that Hassar had not expected. But he was well prepared nonetheless. Getting close to the ground, he put one palm on the ground for balance and their blades clashed again.

Now that Madelyn had the advantage of altitude, it was easier for her to overpower him to the ground. The steel swords tensed and strained against each other, and Madelyn found it hard to find secure footing. So she leaned back slightly, her sword at a horizontal status.

"...!" With a simple pluck into the air, Hassar swung his sword up with a sudden burst of strength, knocking the sword from her hands. She stopped as his sword was just below her chin, and heard the sword fall into the sand some meters behind her.

Madelyn lowered her arms and smiled weakly.

"You won." She said. He lowered his sword, and let a grin sneak up himself.

"So I have. But I was surprised at your skill for first combat." He got up and pointed the practice sword to the ground. Madelyn turned around and pulled the sword which had landed with it's point in the sand.

After raising it, she brushed off the particles of sand off of the dull edge.

"Swordplay is an art." She said simply. "At the castle, I am taught to dance and paint. To write poems and literature. But as swordplay is as close to most of those things.. it is forbidden that I am taught to fight." She put a hand on the hilt of her real sword by her side. "And even own a sword." He took the practice sword from her, and she stared into the darkening sky.

"It was as if.. my hands were so accustomed to the quick dance of fighting. To.. paint the strokes with the blade. I've.. never felt so familiar to anything like this." She turned and looked at him, smiling. "I must sound so awkward."

"Not at all." He replied tossing both swords on a patch of straw. "I've been watching you practice for quite a while now. Your style is unlike any I've seen. You are not.. like a fighter. But an artist. Someone who puts meaning in each stroke."

The side of her mouth was curved upwards in the smile.

"I'm not anyone." She said modestly. "I'm just a trapped, spoiled child in the role of a Noblewoman." Her eyes were low, with an 'out-there' look. Hassar turned slightly. It looked as if he wanted to say something, but didn't know what.

"Lady.." He said softly, his profile to her. She looked up at him, and he could see the shine of her eyes from the corner of his own.

"Yes..?"

"I got news today.. of my father."

Madelyn tensed.

"And..?"

"My father.. Chieftain of the Lorca, has passed away." Madelyn put her hands to her mouth.

"Surely.." She started, but did not finish. Hassar could not bear to look at her.

"Tomorrow.. will be our last lesson." He said, face down with his eyes clothes, his brow drawn. "I will be leaving Caelin late that night."

The door shut almost automatically behind her. The sword dropped through her hands, hitting the ground below with a dull clamber. She fell on her knees, her head down, hair over her eyes. The shadows were dark over her face as her back leaned painfully at a sharp angle by the door.

Something splattered on the ground just by her leg. Something that shone in the moonlight, and spread like a drop. Another followed, wetting the ground with sorrow. Her hands were loose at the sword's scabbard, and the moonlight shed upon her pale face.

Those trembling hands raised and covered her face.

_I knew he would not stay long.. He was just to be my friend and teacher.._ She told herself over and over again. _I knew he would.._ Her face felt cold, but the drops which fell down her face and by her lip felt so hot. There was a wind that shuddered through the room, draping the curtains as the cloth fluttered.

She leaned back with her shoulder blades flat and aching against the door. Her neck tilted back into a curve over her right shoulder. Another tear fell with a sparkle, bathed with the eerie light. Her lashes fluttered, but her eyes remained closed.

_But if I knew.. why.. am I crying..?_


	7. Force Marriage

****

Madelyn's Choice

By Becki

© Fire Emblem

Characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

****

Chapter Seven: _Forced Marriage_

Madelyn looked up to see Hassar ready and waiting. He had the blunt training swords with him, and did not look her in the eye throughout this time.

He held one of the swords out to her, but she did not reach over to take it.

She unsheathed the sharp-bladed sword at her side.

And looked defiantly at him.

"No." She mouthed. "Let's see how gentle the men of Sacae can be." If he was surprised, he did a fine job of not revealing it. But he frowned as if suggesting such a thing was horrendous. But, he obeyed. Madelyn held up her blade, watching the light bend upon the metal surface. Hassar threw down the practice swords and drew his own sword.

Both swords glittered violently with the lust for blood. They threateningly boasted with dangerous points. Hassar watched as Madelyn stepped back and held her sword parallel to the ground.

"Begin." She started, and he saw her hands trembling on the hilt.

Putting her whole weight into the first lunge, she cleanly delivered a well-balanced blow. He countered it almost immediately, noticing the sudden intensity she fought with. Again she thrust the blade at him, and again he guarded against it. The swords gave a loud clang against each other, the sharp sides sliding with a shrill cry.

Her footwork was clumsy however, shaky and unstable. She felt herself trembling all over as she moved, trying to control herself. Pulling the blade towards Hassar again, he parried with a gentle stroke and finally delivered an offensive blow of his own. Ducking low, she forced a vertical cut above.

Hassar noticed her sudden enthusiasm. She was fighting harder than she had ever done before. And he realized that she was forcing him to do the same.

Making sure he had a good distance away from her, he had to be certain that he would not harm her. Disarming her in the same way he had did the night earlier would be the best bet.

He was not sure how long they had been fighting, but both of them were restless and ignorant to the time. It was dark, the lantern by the horse fed the grounds with an orange light, just enough for them to see each other.

Madelyn successfully hailed down on him a hurl of many blows, slicing horizontally with short angles but a decent amount of force. Hassar kept his sword upright to force her blade back. He was on the defensive, Madelyn was being aggressive this night.

Her eyes flickered with the candle, watching ever movement her opponent's sword made. Jabbing her blade radically to one side, it just made it against Hassar's arm, about a centimeter off.

The Sacaen moved to force it back, but Madelyn was prepared.

As Hassar rotated towards her, she twisted her hilt so the sword weaved in a cross against the inside of his blade. Bending the sword upwards, she had the sword at a sharp angle up just at Hassar's neck. His blade was helplessly at his side, blocked by the diagonal line of her sword.

Silence.

Madelyn released herself from the fighter stance, realizing that she had been victorious.

The sky was dark. An oblivion of black and starless darkness. They had been out longer than usual. There were voices beyond the gates..

She turned away lowering her sword, it was unbearable to look at him.

He was leaving.. and the chances were that she'd never see him again.

Hassar sensed her melancholy. He threw his free arm around her neck, grabbing her shoulders, leaning close to her ear. She tried to keep her head away, but he spoke to her one last time.

"You don't need me to be gentle on you." He said firmly. "You are well defended as you are."

"...." Madelyn lowered her eyes. "It is.. as I told you before." Her voice was shallow.

"I am naught, but a spoiled child."

"Ah.. dear Lady Madelyn. What are you doing up so late?" She looked distantly at a man standing by the windows with two guards waiting on him. His face was long, had possessed a high forehead and a cleft chin. His eyes were gray, and looked so cold.. Madelyn held her sword limply to one side, but did not seem to make eye contact with him.

"Nothing, dear uncle." She said instinctively and blankly to her Uncle Lundgren. She did not care whether he saw a sword in her possession, and saw that he was looking directly at the weapon.

"Hm." He said, face cold. She normally didn't speak to him often, but at this moment he seemed to be annoyed with her at the moment. "Your father wishes to speak to you."

"This late..?"

"It seems so. He claims that it is important business."

"Ah.."

"Good night fair niece." He turned away, snapping his fingers at the two guards.

"Hm." She nodded wearily. A spasm flitted across his face at her failure to show common respect towards her uncle. Yet, he trampled along the marble ground down the hall, his guards clanking behind him.

Well, it was at least nice to know that her father was still alive and well. It had been days since she had last heard of him and weeks since she had actually seen him. And now she regret not saying goodbye properly to Hassar and felt devoid of all emotions. She knew not what to feel. But it would be a good idea to make sure Lord Hausen did not see the sword in her hand.

So wisely so, she opened the door to her own room and fit the sword in against the wall. She unclasped her dark cloak and covered the sword with it. Closing the door softly, she locked it. Then she made her way to her father's chambers.

The castle of Caelin was not all that complicated. The halls were designed in one big circle in the lodging wing, the smaller halls parallel to the cords connecting the arcs. It was the same on every floor. The halls were dark at this time, but since she had been a child, Madelyn knew her way through ever door, every corridor with her eyes closed.

The trek to her father's room seemed blank and mindless, she had no thoughts or memories of it. But when she did reach his dormitory, it would be the worst memory of Caelin she would ever have.

She knocked thrice against the door, her knuckles cold. The door gently opened and a the Steward poked his head out.

"Lady Madelyn!" He said, quickly executing a bow. She nodded her head, eyes dim.

"I was told that my father wished to see me.." Her voice was void of emotion, deep in tiredness. Chancellor Reissmann nodded his head and stifled a yawn to his great embarrassment and distress. As he excused himself, he answered quickly.

"Yes, Lord Hausen is inside at his desk." He pushed the door open further to let her enter. Once both of her feet touched the soft carpeted room, the door shut softly quietly behind her.

It was a finely furnished room. The fireless fireplace by the window seemed black with soot, the rug at the ground shining with each thread. She looked over at the empty white bed, fresh sheets applied and warm irons already slipped under the mattress.

She turned right and entered the second room, where paintings and trappings hung, closing the door behind her. Marquess Caelin sat at his desk, scribbling away, dabbing his pen into the tab of ink. He did not notice that she had entered, his head low and candle flickering. Madelyn looked to see a painting of herself on the desk. It was a recently painted picture by a talented artist, she remembered the long process of providing the living reference.

"That picture, father?" She said suddenly, her interest caught. Startled, Lord Hausen lifted his head to see his daughter waiting. His face broke into a smile as he dipped the pen into the bottle and left it there.

"Madelyn, you gave me a fright."

"I'm sorry father." She said lightly. "But that portrait.."

"Yes, Marquess Araphen has requested it." Madelyn felt that feeling of sudden dread when she remembered. How could she forget in the first place?

"Marquess... Marquess Araphen?"

"Yes, but by now you should know." He replied pleasantly, once again oblivious to her obvious distaste.

"...know what, father..?"

"What's gotten into you, girl?" He said, suddenly concerned and stern at the same time. "Why is your face so pale? You gave him his answer after all."

"My answer? Father, I haven't the slightest idea of what you speak of.."

"To his proposal."

"Yes, I said that I wasn't ready." She said, recalling that dinner by the garden, but she felt that she was forgetting something. "You said that you'd tell him so.."

"No, I told you that you could answer him yourself. And you did, did you not? I knew that you would change your mind." He said, standing up and clapping his hands together. She felt her face flush with sudden warmth and dilemma. She tried to recall his words and the banquet, had he ever asked about her answer to his proposal..?

_"I wish.. no, I yearn for your acceptance" _ And.. what was her answer..?

_"But I do accept you, my lord." _Madelyn remembered. It was just all a misunderstanding..

"Father.." She said sharply. "I did not accept his marriage.. I just told him that he was tolerable."

_At least.. that's what I thought I was implying.._ Madelyn thought, her head spinning.

"What is that supposed to imply?" He said, his voice raised a bit. "Your marriage has already been arranged."

"What!" Madelyn was taken by surprise, although she had felt this was the answer she was to get. "You.. hadn't confirmed it with me.. it is all just a misunderstanding.. I can't.."

"You had confirmed it with Lord Araphen, it had seemed." He asked gently, and sat down. "Why are you flustered so? He is a fine man with good morals. Araphen's prowess is second to Ostia, and it is a smart match. You know that I only mean you the best, don't you, Madelyn?"

"Yes, but.." She started exasperated, but he cut her off.

"Enough of this talk. The wedding will be held a moon from now. The invitations have already been stamped and Marquess Araphen has been planning for this since the banquet now. You are dismissed." He bent down to start writing again, but she placed a hand down on her desk, her shadow blocking the candlelight.

"Father.. what about Caelin? I have no siblings to take Caelin's throne, and my child would go to Araphen.. surely you do not plan in setting Uncle Lundgren on throne? He is not but three years your junior and cannot hail a long reign.." She said, knowing that it was a weak argument.

"Your second child will go to Caelin. It has already been discussed." Her father said, his voice with an edge to it. But this made her angry. Her philosophy was correct. Marriage was only to breed nobility to set on the throne. She was no better than an experiment, an instrument to carry on the noble legacy. Marriage.. it was such a disgusting, cruel word with an even crueler meaning.

"Father! You cannot force me to do so!" She cried out, her once emotionless mask now pleading and begging. Lord Hausen pushed back his chair and slowly stood up.

"I said enough! The matter is already closed, we have already made the agreement!"

"Then.. am I only the spoils in a compromise? Am I to be sold over an agreement?" She said, breathing quickly, her heart racing.

"_How could you say that..?!_" His voice raised, out of the gentle tone she had known all her life. This was the first time he had ever yelled at her. "Marquess Araphen could give you better luxury than Caelin ever could! And now that I offer you something better for the benefit of Caelin as well as yourself, you are not even thankful? What do you plan to do, lose this chance stay a spoiled child forever?!"

How cruel the twists of irony could be that he had used this name that she had used on herself for so long. Her cheek was wet with the bitter tears as she remembered..

"My lord!" She bowed her head and clasped her hands together. "Please, call off this wedding, I will do anything of your bidding!" Lord Hausen had on a deep frown, of complete contempt and disbelief. She had never seen this side of him before, it made her frightened.

"_No._" He said, so shallow and brittle that it made her flinch. "No. I am a man of my word. I will not withdraw for the sake of one foolish girl. Now..." He slowly sat down, his face pale and cold. "Leave my sight."

"Lady Madelyn! What in Roland's name are you doing here?" A gruff soldier asked as she appeared at the knights' quarters late in the night. Her face was red and eyes cold. Her mind was racing with things, confusion and the lack of knowing what to do taking over. The very thing she had dreaded most was becoming real.

The soldier was in front of the door of the dormitories. He held his lance in his hands, and he looked at her, his face unsure and confused.

"Move aside." She commanded, and was still trembling all over. "_Please._"

"I have strict orders lady.." He said. "Only the knights are to enter. This area is also completely men's. A woman has no place in this building, it is inappropriate for especially a lady."

"Move aside." She ordered again.  
"Milady.." He hesitated.

"Do as I say or you shall face the dire consequences for disobeying your liege!" This was the first actual threat she had ever made, but she was too confused to do anything else. The man stuttered for a moment before shifting a side. Without any second thoughts, she ran inside.

The room was completely empty. His roommate was out, most likely gambling or drinking at the tavern late at this time. It was growing late, or rather early, Hassar thought, it was nearly morning. It had taken longer to withdraw his name from Caelin's ranks than he had thought. Official paperwork had been out of order, and they would not let him leave until it was over. But it had been completed. He could finally leave. Leave.. for home.

He looked at the his sword which had been tossed upon his bed. His quiver and bow was leaning against the bedpost as well. It seemed so short, but a month and so weeks had already passed. But it was satisfying. He had successfully learned the ways of the western people, their fighting styles and so on. He also knew that the stereotypes had been greatly exaggerated.

And now to retrieve his horse and make his final foreign journey home.

Outside his door, he heard pounding footsteps. It was slightly unusual because most of the men had left their quarters and were in town. They had decided to enjoy themselves with the successes they had made through the years. Hassar was the last to stay, wanting to pack up before he left.

And it could only be imagined the surprised face he had when he saw Madelyn standing before him in a men's dormitory. But he knew something was wrong. Her face was pale, eyes red and eyebrows in a troubled crease.

"My lady, you.." He began and came towards her. But she looked so tired, too tired to move on. She fell toward him slowly and painfully.

Without thinking he caught her, realizing how frail and light she was. She kept her eyes closed, but was silently crying. Not knowing what had caused her grief or what to do at this time, he fell silent and let her lean on him. She reached up and held his shoulder, trying to balance and stop herself from another fall.

"I.. I couldn't..." She said, her words just barely detected. She rested her forehead on his chest, her shoulders were trembling so. "You.. ..."

Each second seemed so short. Madelyn had never imagined that this could ever happen. Her naive ness towards love and everything about men was completely washed aside. He was being merciful and had said nothing. She just wanted everything to melt away to nothing. She wanted him to hold her forever.

A raindrop pattered against the window. The wind shuttered. Then everything was silent again.

::bangs head on the keyboard:: .a,..xjkl;;ij weo;i jdsfj.,cxbn!!!! That was terrible! -- I did say I was terrible at romance, but this is p-a-t-h-e-t-i-c..... Yeah, I'm definitely expecting flamers now --;


	8. Dark Foresight

****

Madelyn's Choice

By Becki

© Fire Emblem

Characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

****

Chapter Eight: _Dark Foresight_

Wallace stood uncomfortably before the Marquess' door. There was many reasons to feel some angst, the best reason being that Lord Hausen was unexpectedly furious that morning. Wallace was summoned just after noon with orders of haste from the lord.

Finally he was admitted inside. The door was closed gently behind him by a frightened servant, leaving Wallace to gape at a messy room. It seemed as though a child throwing a tantrum had been by. Lord Hausen sat like a statue by the tall window, his face like cold stone. Wallace tensed beneath his armor and came forward.

"My lord?" He said, fearful of anything that may happen. The Lord turned and looked at him with cold eyes. He did not let cheerful conversation lead the way, and immediately rose to the point.

"My daughter had left Caelin last night." He said, voice hard. Wallace was taken aback, for this could mean many things. But by this situation, he felt it safe to assume that she had left without permission..

"My lord?" Wallace said, his shock present in his tone.

"Bring her back." He said with no pity or empathy, turning away. "Scouts say horsemen were riding northeast."

"But--"

"I don't care if you have to drag her back. _It is an order, Sir Wallace._"

"Lord Hassar, your face is so white.." The nomad turned to look at Kasha, the morning sun glaring in his eyes. Madelyn was asleep, as were the horses. The night before was arduous and demanded a fast pace. The two on their flight from Caelin had met with Kasha in Khathalet, ready with supplies. He was greatly surprised to see the Lady, but said nothing of that matter. Madelyn had not said much, but she had begged Hassar to take her away from the home she knew, to escape the ill fate she was to be forced to accept.

And the night was torturous. Hassar was reminded suddenly and unexpectedly that old woman's fortune. That he would meet someone in Caelin's walls, that if he chose the path with this person, not only his future but theirs would be greatly influenced.. and by the way she had presented it, it would be in a negative way.

During the night, his sleep was invaded by nightmares. The dark clouds over the plains, yelling and screaming. Of a stream that flowed crimson through the grass. Was this.. truly the right path?

"It's.. It's nothing, Kasha. We'll.. be leaving soon." Hassar said, unable to tell what plagued him. It must have been the first time he had ever lied, but he was far too concerned to care.

Madelyn was leaning against a tree, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her face was pale and fatigued, lashes drawn over her eyes. Tousled brown strands of hair wove around her face like webs, curling in an unruly fashion due to travel. She was not used to the hard pace and the quick travel.

As Kasha began loading the saddlebags and rousing the two horses, Hassar sat down a good distance away, his back to her. He looked north, his face hard to interpret. The mountains looked so far away. But not quite so inviting. On the other side of the range would be home, where they could be free. Madelyn had said, her greatest desire was such freedom. But would she.. accept it even if it meant death?

Yes, he was certain that if she went, there would be death. The dreams during the night, the old woman's augury. It proved it all. By this time, he doubted that she was not missed. Caelin must have been on its heels, seeking the noblewoman.

Hands found their way around his neck, arms crossing in an embrace. Madelyn leaned on his back, and he hardly moved.

"What plagues you so?" She said softly, her voice hushed with weariness.

"It is.. not too late." Hassar said, his words loose. "You.. should return home.." She was quiet, but she did not withdraw or make sudden actions. He knew she must have been surprised at his statement, but she didn't know what would happen if she did come..

"What makes you say thus?" She was a smart girl. She knew there must have been a reason for why had chosen to say this. Hassar looked towards the pale orange sky, and her arms tightened.

"Your home had always been Caelin." He said as mildly as possible. "The plains would be no place for you."

"My.. heart is set. Even if you were going to Valor, I would be by your side." She spoke, her forehead on his shoulder.

"...." He could find no words.

"You, who dared to speak to me when many were afraid. You who taught me when I knew so little. This is the only wish of a woman who has had everything."

"Even if your family disowns you? When your title is stripped and all friends you once knew abandoned? Even if.." The fortune teller's words still rang clear in his mind. It was unthinkable. How could this have happened? It could have been avoided altogether.

"Do you remember.. when we first met each other..?" She said, altering the subject.

"Hm."

"You said I had been different from others. You knew immediately my pain. Yet I have something that all the wealth and honor in Caelin cannot compare. Every word you spoke to me gave me encouragement and I hadn't day when I was not impatient to meet you. Please.. don't take that from me.."

"Lady Madelyn." Hassar said with sudden solidarity. "You.. don't know what I have seen. If you choose my path, there will be pain."

"Why..." Her voice was twisting with hurt. "Why are you trying to leave me?"

"You do not know of the outside world, what it can do, and how it leaves you so cold. Your love of life and gentle ways, just listening to your words.. It makes me wish that you would not be exposed to the world."

"You.. want to protect me from something?" Madelyn pulled back, looking away.

"Please understand." Hassar said gently. Madelyn paused, and came forward, sitting next to him. Her face was still pale and clammy.

"Each word pains you. You.."

"Lady-"

"No. Don't speak. Just listen. This is what I would gladly do. If we were riding towards death itself, be it so. Whatever you face, I will face. Your pain will be mine, your joys and sorrows I shall share. Don't leave me." She said it with the same fear as a child left alone in the dark.

"Then I will not." He said with no expression. "For I cannot."

They were at the skirts of Araphen by sunset. Madelyn refused to enter the city and said little about the subject. She was exhausted by the travels, and they stopped outside the town's walls to rest. Hassar ordered Kasha to stay with her and be weary of anything that should happen. Kasha had some gold and they were in dire need of supplies.

Hassar entered the gates with some ease, the nightmare still plain in his mind. He realized how much he appreciated her smile, how she was so willing to be with him. The town was far larger than Caelin, the people who walked by hurriedly and the thick crowds that swallowed him. It definitely had been a good idea in leaving his horse behind. He saw some Sacaen faces in the crowd, but with the town being close to the border, it was expected. Only a day before finally reaching Sacae. Madelyn would hold out, she was strong.

At the vender, he quickly purchased vulneries and an elixir. While the shopkeeper went to the backroom, he overheard two men's' conversation.

"Soldiers everywhere. It's a disgrace." The shorter one said, a pipe in his mouth as he leaned over the counter.

"Hm, since this morning they've been swarming the place. It seems they're looking for someone." The other said, looking out a window.

"A criminal? Hate to be in their place." The short one said, mildly interested.

"No, actually. I've been hearing some rumors that Knights of Caelin are scouring the area, soon to be arriving in Araphen. Some disputes with the Lord's family." Hassar tensed.

"The lords and their pride."

"Well, I hear that the runaway's the lady of the household."

"Eh? The lord's wife, I suspect?"

"Nah, she's been dead for years. The Marquess' daughter."

"Must be a beauty, haven't seen this much security since the former Marquess of Araphen passed away." The shorter removed the pipe from his mouth, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Well, it obviously didn't suit well with her father. Half of Caelin has been emptied, searching for her." At this moment the vender brought back the items Hassar had ordered.

"Thousand gold, sir." The man said. Hassar pressed ten gold pieces on the counter, nodding his thanks. Taking the items, he left the shop rather quickly.

And he did begin to notice the alarming number of soldiers. For some reason this also disturbed the Marquess of Araphen. He remembered suddenly upon first meeting Madelyn she was searching for Araphen's Marquess. It must have been more serious than he thought..

Slipping out of the gate, he headed for the grove of trees where Kasha and Madelyn waited.

Kasha welcomed him steadily, grooming his horse. Hassar grimaced.

"Where is Madelyn?" He asked sternly. Kasha looked about and pointed further down the row of trees.

"She went to get some water from the stream." He said, and Hassar frowned.

"From now until we reach Sacae, Kasha, I don't want her to leave your sight." With that order, he turned and went down through the trees to find her.

She was bent down at the stream's edge, her tied high. The light played against the translucent water and the shine of her hair as she heard him approach and turned.

"My lord, you've returned so soon." She said standing up too quickly. He caught her by the shoulders before she fell with dizziness.

"How are you feeling?" He asked gently.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden. I'll be better with some rest.." She closed her eyes holding a flask of water. When she opened her eyes, she saw his troubled yet serious face. "What news do you have?"

"It seems Marquess Caelin is searching for you." His voice was calm.

"That.. was expected." She said sadly, standing up straight without his support.

"He has sent half of Caelin out looking for you, Madelyn." He saw her concerned face and touched her cheek. "We're a day away from our destination. Don not worry yourself. Just get some rest." She stood by and stared distantly towards the general direction of her former home. The sunset caused an orange glow on her dark hair as it was distorted by the wind.

"I must be in some twisted dream, a fantasy." She said slowly. "I never thought.." She bit her lip, bending her head down with her eyes screwed shut. Hassar felt himself in an awkward situation and waited silently.

Madelyn felt herself swell up inside with unneeded emotions. Dilemma and a sense of betrayal flooded her mind. She thought she could be strong, as strong as people thought her to be, but it was killing her. Flexing her fingers tight against her wrist, she hardly realized how cold her skin felt. And he was beside her, sharing her pain, she knew. He cared for her. She knew it. He wanted no pain on her..

She looked up at him, angry at how her vision was so blurred. Wiping her eyes and feeling the stinging effect left by unshed tears, she tried to remain calm.

"How.. could I do this..?" She said, unwittingly out loud. Years had she spent doing duty. The duty that was placed by birth, not choice. The cage of memories and guilt would stay if she continued this path. But she would never be happy standing by Marquess Araphen's side. Remembering as she spoke to her father, how she felt comparative to a prized breeding animal at the fair. Remembering how her step was so light and demeanor so carefree those times before her mother had passed away.

Her eyes threatened to spill with tears. Angrily she forced them at bay, feeling them sting stronger.

Suddenly she felt his arms around her. It was slow, so slow she almost didn't realize it until it happened. He seemed unsure, as if he had never touched a woman before.

This time she felt her well laid defenses shatter.

She placed her arms above his shoulders, and wept. It was hard to cry, but she felt that she had cried all tears that she had. She embraced the fact that she let herself break in front of him, that he was sharing her burden.

_How could I have been so foolish? How could I have been so selfish in involving him?_ The voice within said. As if sensing her negative thoughts, Hassar's arms tightened, as if protecting a treasure.

"If only you could see it now." He said, voice comforting, almost reciting this to her. He whispered it in a reminiscing way. He was telling a tale. "Mother earth and her green splendor pouring her rich soul into the lands. Painting each strand of grass, each animal that would frolic in this sea of green. And Father Sky with his loving arms weaving clear blue thread into the sky and allowing the great eagle to soar among his clouds. Placing the sun in this tapestry to shine over the green, to give life.

"It was the blessed land, the both of them would say, surveying their artistry with great satisfaction. The children there would learn to love, learn to be strong and be good. They would share these stories and legends, they would enjoy each other's songs and presences. They would carry each other, laugh and cry. And the beloved lands would stay green and full of life."

_If only you could see it now..._

_Her _voice echoed back to him as he trailed off at the last sentence. He could see his sister in his mind's eye, her long hair trailing behind her as she ran, the younger brother who ran after her, unable to match her speed. Like a gazelle, innocent and naive, she would tell him tales through her gift with words. She would teach him and laugh with him, defend him when he wandered into trouble. She would ride with him as they grew, and sing softly during the night. She would wrap tender arms around him as he cried, and whispered to him. He was beside her while she was reclaimed by the earth, pale and sick. He was listening when she told him the tale of the creation of the plains. The tale of life and pictures, that she whispered as her eyes glistened with fore coming death. He was there to weep for her, and she was still there to comfort with her fading words.

He was no storyteller, not like his sister had been. Each word brought back another memory, another pang of guilt. And yet, he felt Madelyn's posture lighten as she listened and choked back her tears. The night's darkness shrouded them, the moon's light guided and shone.

The next morning when Kasha found them, Hassar was sleeping against a tree near the stream with Madelyn asleep in his arms.

.....No comment --;

Becki


	9. Unfailing Friendship

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Madelyn's Choice

By Becki

© Fire Emblem

Characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

Nuuu... Xx; I'm already close to the last chapter ..; I know there'll be lots of protests to lengthen it, but I haven't the time. School has already started and I don't have much time for ANYTHING. And in the first chapter of this, I did say it wasn't going to be a very long fic.

claps hands together and begs for forgiveness Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I'm sorry for such a long wait to update this thing.. I got eh.. sidetracked ..; (not to mention writer's block hit me hard, I haven't written much in the last two months --) But to make up for it, I have two chapters in this update ; Thank you everybody who continued to support me! I appreciate it so much! And now, for the end of my second multi-chapter Fire Emblem Fanfic!

Becki

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Chapter Nine: _Unfailing Friendship_

"Madelyn. Look.." His fingers traced the outline of the misted mountains. She looked up sleepily as the horse clambered on. They were so close, just beyond the range, awaited their destination. Kasha rode close by, his sharp gaze piercing the misty darkness of dawn.

"It's beautiful." She breathed, watching how pastel-like the purple and bluish colors were. Then she coughed dryly, covering her mouth as her haggard breathing returned.

"It's not long now." Hassar said encouragingly, his arm around her waist to steady her on the horse, his other hand at the reins.

"I'm sorry." She apologized as her coughing subsided. "I'll be strong." The silence was thinly greeted by a loon's mourning call in the distance. There was a veil of humidity which clung with dewy affection in the cool air. It was breezeless, the air comfortably cool. Fog blanketed the earth with gray. Two shadows of lithe framed deer frolicked across the clearing as they neared the mountains.

Kasha seemed at-edge, he occasionally looked behind them, into the thick mist. His hands rested on the sword at his waist, fingers lingering on the hilt.

"Listen." He said, tone breathy. Hassar looked towards the sky, eyes distant as he listened intently.

"I hear nothing. What is it?"

"The clambering of men. It's far now, but with each step they gain on us." The younger plainsman said. Hassar frowned. Madelyn's face was troubled as she cast down her eyes.

"It must be.." She started, but Hassar cut her off.

"Come, we must make haste." He dismounted and surveyed the area. "Kasha, you take Lady Madelyn through the woods by foot. I will ride forward as a distraction. We'll meet on the mountainside of the highest peak."

"Hassar.." Madelyn said softly, not finding any enthusiasm in the idea.

"I am the fastest rider." He said helping her down. "There is not need to cause worry." Kasha dismounted and took the reins of his horse.

"Then Lord Hassar, we will meet on the Sacae Plains." With that, he released the bridle and slapped the horse's flank. The steed bolted into the mists, engulfed by the fog.

Kasha aided Madelyn through the woods covered in fog. His sharp senses proved crucial as they wandered through the thick layers. Madelyn was silent, her pace as quick as her strength would allow. The dark arms of the trees branched out, the olive colored leaves still. Everything seemed silent and happened so quick.

"You should not have to worry." Kasha said, reassuringly, sensing her doubt. "It is as Lord Hassar says. He can outride the fasted eagle on the plains."

"I.. have faith in that. But even speed may not outwit fate." She said with a frown. "There is something that troubles me so. I am not certain of why, however."

"All will be well." The swordsman replied. And he changed the subject so that the trek through the woods may seem less long. "The Chieftain's wife will surely be surprised."

"Because of me?" Madelyn said, with a trace of fear.

"Yes, but you mustn't be concerned. Lord Hassar wanted to understand this world better, he had declared suddenly that he was going to go on a journey. This was after.. after his sister had passed."

"Oh?" Madelyn looked at him with a questioning expression, which then melted into sympathy. "I.. I didn't know."

"Yes." Kasha said almost apologetically, sorry for bringing the subject up. "He left the Lorca just last year on this uncertain quest. Nobody expected for him to bring home a bride. It would be quite a surprise" The way he said it was so casual, with no hint of being biased.

There was a lingering silence which followed. Madelyn stepped over a gnarled root and tried to look ahead. The frames of trees shuddered but thinned, to mark the end of the woods.

"We're almost there, lady." Kasha said as they passed the last row of trees. Madelyn stole a look over her shoulder.

"We're being followed."

Hassar, in the moment of dilemma and the tightness of time frowned severely. His back was arched as he bent over the horse's neck as they bolted across the clearing. He had already been spotted by Caelin's search party. Cavaliers were sent after him, with their long lances and sharp swords.

But what was worse was that they had divided. Half of the pursuing group had filtered towards the forest while the other half rode after the Sacaen. With each step the mare took, it flew. Clippings of grass flung in the artificial wind, and Hassar narrowed his eyes.

It was not far.

But it seemed so far.

How cruelly dilemma distorted time. The sun was just over the peaks of the mountain, glazing the land in orange. Shadows danced across the grass, traced by the orange light. As the light peeked through his eyes, he turned his head to one side, trusting the horse to keep its path.

And finally the sun could no longer be seen. The mountains eclipsed it with its mighty face, and the shadows left a damp coolness upon his face. The path through the mountains was clear, no travelers to Sacae lingered.

And he prayed to Mother Earth that she would be kind to Kasha and Madelyn as they made way through her lands.

They climbed the rugged side, the lowest mountain that led to the path to Sacae. Madelyn suppressed her coughs and tried to maintain her breathing as she clambered on.

_I must be strong._ She told herself over and over. _I told Hassar I would be._

She dare not look back, to see the number of pursuers and their might. She feared what she could see, so it was better that she could not see. And Kasha, if he had been nervous, he showed none of it on his face. He helped her over the roughest situations, his eyes only forward.

It was not long before the first arrow flew over their heads. It was carefully aimed at the plainsman. Madelyn shut her eyes tight and held his hand tightly for guidance. She could hear the clambering of armor, their heavy footsteps on the ground.

"Roland.." She breathed. Great fear and surprise filled her as Kasha stopped suddenly without warning.

"Lord Hassar!" He whispered urgently. She forced her eyes open to look down towards the east, where the sun threatened to blind her. His figure bolted across, so close to the path. Men on horseback followed after him, naked weapons at hand. His plan had failed, the attempt to divert the attention of the Caelin army was unsuccessful.

More arrows struck the earth around them. Kasha suddenly took Madelyn by the shoulders, unsheathing his sword. She was too dazed to understand what was happening. She was turned around and faced the approaching archers and other fighters of Caelin that had caught up with them.

"Drop your arrows." Kasha said loudly as a threat, his sword glittering a hand span from her neck.

"Wha-.." Madelyn began.

"Do not fear. If they believe I am a threat to you, they will not advance." He said so soft only she could hear. "Forgive me, lady."

"No, think nothing of it." She said grimly. The archers loosened their arrows, but did not put them away. "Hurry, let's go." Madelyn pleaded, turning her head to search for Hassar. He grasped her by the hand again and led down the other side of the hill where they could see the path. The scrambling of their pursuers came up behind warily.

It was far to late. The road ahead had been blockaded by Araphen's cavalry. Madelyn tensed as she recognized their seal on the saddles. The Marquess of Araphen would not give up so easily. Hassar halted his steed and dismounted as Madelyn and Kasha approached. His face was completely emotionless, it was like him to be calm at a time as this.

Madelyn stumbled and fell, but was soon caught by Hassar. She looked up at the soldiers surrounding them, faces wet with perspiration and armor gleaming in the early light. She gripped his arms, breathing raggedly.

A gruff hand parted through the crowd of warriors. And to both Madelyn and Hassar's astonishment, Wallace stepped out before them, his expression mirroring theirs. The knight looked as Madelyn was in Hassar's arms in a protective manner, her eyes troubled.

"L...Lady Madelyn." He forced out.

"Sir Wallace." She returned. Kasha stood behind them, watching the riders of Araphen. Wallace paused, but then as he made the slightest movement of his hand, the tension in the soldiers of Araphen tightened as the took a step forward.

Madelyn stepped out from Hassar's protection, her hands spread out.

"Please wait! This is the fault of mine alone. Do to me what you will, but swear that you will not lay a hand on this man." Her voice had a trembling vibrato as her hands shook.

"No Wallace." Hassar interrupted, trailing his eyes around as he recognized the many other men from his training group in Caelin. "I am to blame. Let no harm befall her." Madelyn shot a glance at him, her eyes clearly displaying the pain as she mouthed the word 'no'.

He had a family and a tribe looking up to him. If he did not return to Sacae, the Lorca would be leaderless.

Wallace looked desperately from the noble's daughter to the plainsman. Closing his eyes shut, he tried to think. So, this was the reasoning for Madelyn's light step and happy demeanor for those months. He had felt terrible about being forced to drag her home, but now that it involved his best of friends, it was all that much worse.

There was a strained apprehension as Wallace contemplated his next actions. Madelyn coughed and stepped back, covering her mouth. Hassar was instantly to her aid.

"Hurry Wallace." One of the swordsmen growled. "The lady is ill. We can take both back to Caelin." Madelyn winced between her coughs, her head down towards the ground. Although her skin was so pale, the sun gave a lively glow on her complexion.

Wallace made up his mind.

With his palm stretched out, he waved it back. In surprise, the men in his command stepped back. He turned around and closed his hand.

"Go." He said so soft they hardly heard him. The soldiers were stunned into silence. They knew there was a price to pay for this insubordination. As he heard the runaways' steps fade away in the distance behind him, a brief, reminiscent smile flickered on his broad features, as if remembering an old joke.

"May we meet again, my old friend. But cowardice.. is far worse than laziness."


	10. Fulfilled Prophecy

****

Madelyn's Choice

By Becki

© Fire Emblem

All characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

__

Reminder: I had uploaded 2 chapters this time, so if you have not read Chapter nine, please do so before reading this one. Thank you everybody and again, I'm so sorry for the delay!

****

Final Chapter: **_Fulfilled Prophecy_**

_What guilt springs from pools of red..?_

Axes flash, and cries stifle the air. Darkness roams, and the moon is hidden.

_Why do the innocent cry out?_

Ashes pollute the wind as the gentle gale flutters away. Away from the rivers of crimson and the bloodied metal. Eyes narrow as they force this scene away.

_It is no crime to be weak, but for the desire to be weak._

Hands trembled on the hilt, fingers sticky and hot with the splash of scarlet. A shudder of pain escapes his lips.

_What is.. true darkness..?_

With a blurring vision, his eyes searched the camp. Helpless, hopeless, they closed, unable to see anymore. Focusing on his breathing, he took in the brittle, bitter scent. Squeezing his grip around the sword, he opened his eyes again, and hurried forward.

His whole frame quivered in pain. His arms were numb and a paroxysm of pure agony stabbed his veins. It was like a fire, coursing and burning, unmerciful to everything in its path. Though as great as the pain was, it was not life-threatening. But the situation was.

They were everywhere. Axe wielding men, bandits thirsty for killing and drunk off of the chaos of battle. Dirty deeds had won them the advantage.

But as crippled as he was, he would not die easily, for his skills were not so handicapped. A certain brigand targeted a mother and her child. She held her child so hard with silent tears falling from her face, the axe man raised his weapon for the killing stroke. But it was not his blow that did the killing. The sword's mark was quick and messy, but did the duty it was meant to do. The man fell down at his feet and the mother looked up to see her savior.

"Chieftain!" She whispered so soft. His head was dizzy and his hair fell into his eyes. He covered his face and regained his balance as he uttered an order to her.

"Hurry, run!" He said intensely. She bit her lip and got up, kissing her child's brow in a comforting embrace and ran. The chieftain turned around with his sword prepared.

The horses had been released from their pens. Another tactic that reduced the escape rate. However, there was a certain creme colored mare that had some loyalty left within her. The horse screamed shrilly and tore off from the stampede, tossing her graceful head about in the mess. She spotted the chieftain with his dripping sword, and seemed to recognize him immediately. Prancing over as if not knowing the dire situation, the mare pushed his shoulder with her nose.

As he placed a hand under her chin, he turned to see another sword-wielding figure beyond the torn tents and the lingering bodies. It was an older girl who stood with her hands on her knees, breathing deeply with perspiration streaming down her forehead. Her face was cut and bruised, her long lustrous emerald hair painted in crimson. He approached her instantly with what strength that was left in him, with the faithful mare following him.

"Fa-ather!" She gasped as she fell into his arms, her torn hands around his shoulders. He pulled her away to look at her face. Her eyes reflected fear and hatred, but most powerfully of all, fierce determination. They were eyes that were pooling and eventually spilled over her lashes, and he wiped the tears away with his thumb.

"Lyndis--" He turned away and coughed violently. Lyndis winced and covered her mouth with her palm upon seeing the status of her father.

"Father, you must have--" She began, but he silenced her. He took the mare by the bridle and pulled her gently forward. Taking his daughter by the waist, he hoisted her up on trembling arms to the saddle on the horse's back.

"Listen carefully, Lyndis, I have few words left. Remember us as the lost people of Sacae, and live. You must survive.. for the Lorca!" He slapped the flank of the mare just as Kasha had done so easily almost twenty years ago. The mare bolted away, with the rider holding her arms out desperately to him.

"_No!_" She shrieked, realizing the fate that her father had accepted. "_No!_" But he had already turned away his face.

And things seemed darker than they had. It would be a matter of moments before he was also found and felled by the blade. But there was one last thing left to do.

She was there. Alone and waiting for the darkness to engulf her also. Her loose brown hair was shining auburn, her face turned down, skin pale. She was not like the Sacaen plainspeople, despite their clothing she wore. Her skin was too light, her hair was too red. But she was the most beautiful thing he had seen.

His sword dropped to the ground. With neat composure she looked up at him, her teal, true eyes gazing at him with such frailty and passion. Without a word they found themselves in each others arms. Madelyn rested her head at the curve of his neck and Hassar kissed her brow. This was the end, and both of them knew it. This was the darkness the old fortune teller had foretold.

As the footsteps drew around them and the blades moved to strike them down, Madelyn closed her eyes and lifted her chin, speaking so softly.

"This is the choice I had made. If we must ride to death together... let it be so."


End file.
